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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26648728">Radio Silence</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/StaticPhantom/pseuds/StaticPhantom'>StaticPhantom</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys - My Chemical Romance (Album), The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys (Comic)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Blood and Injury, Canon Disabled Character, Concerned Sibling Hours, Deaf Character, M/M, Newsie and Kobra need a break, Nightmares</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 09:48:44</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>21,412</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26648728</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/StaticPhantom/pseuds/StaticPhantom</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>If anyone almost killed her brother, Newsie had assumed it would be a 'Crow. She didn't know if she could handle the alternative.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Agent Cherri Cola/Kobra Kid (Danger Days), DJ Hot Chimp/NewsAGoGo (Danger Days)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Bring Me Down</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>These first two chapters were written as part of the Paradise Motel Week prompts, but I decided that this needed to continue. </p><p>(Warning for: Guns, blood, injury, nightmares.)</p><p>Newsie had learned to deal with Cherri's screams. His silence, however, she couldn't stand.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It was Newsie’s fault—of that she was completely sure. Cherri could deny it all he liked, but Newsie had put him in this situation and if she couldn’t take back what she had done, she was sure as hell going to make sure her brother didn’t suffer for it.</p><p> </p><p>Witch knew that Cherri hated firefights. He was a damn good shot, but if the two ever found themselves in a clap he was too shaken up to leave the station for a few days afterwards. He kept his head down, focused on a small sketchbook and whatever pen happened to be lying around.</p><p> </p><p>When she could spare the time, Newsie would sit at the foot of the armchair watching her brother draw. He would pull his hair up into a small bun so it didn’t block his vision while he sketched characters only her and Dr. D would ever be allowed to see. Everything would be fine, even if Cherri responded to most questions without looking up from his drawings, replying only in small hums and single words.</p><p> </p><p>The days were fine, Cherri ended up hunched over in the armchair or stared vacantly out of the grimy window until the sun had sunk far below the horizon. When his heavy eyelids overcame his racing head, things became a little less peaceful. Newsie was pretty tolerant of most things- nails on a chalkboard wouldn’t phase her in the slightest and she reveled in the screaming of hundreds of ‘Joys in the midst of a concert.</p><p> </p><p>There was only one sound which could disturb the unshakeable Newsagogo.</p><p> </p><p>When her brother’s cries had first pierced a peaceful night, Newsie’s blood had run cold and kept her frozen in place. Her heart had pounded in her throat, not quite loud enough to drown out the desperate screams sounding out from only a few feet away.</p><p> </p><p>Every neuron in her brain electrocuted her common sense into reaching out with an involuntary hand and gently resting it on Cherri’s. His fingers were clenched into a tight fist and easily tore away from Newsie’s grasp when his body was wracked with gut-wrenching shrieks once again.</p><p> </p><p>“Cherri please,” she whispered, forcing down tears with more determination than she knew existed within her small frame. She began to count her breaths as they grew faster and less certain. Her hands curled into fists of their own and she squeezed her eyes closed, trying to remember anything she knew about nightmares other than the first rule in the fucking book.</p><p> </p><p>Don’t wake him up.</p><p> </p><p>It was no good stopping someone crying out in the night if you payed the price. Nightmares didn’t deal in carbons, they took their payment in panic attacks and dark bruises, and they didn’t care who they stole them from in the dark alleys of the night. Newsie had learned this the hard way.</p><p> </p><p>She waited. Every muscle in her body was tensed to keep her from falling to pieces under the crushing pressure of Cherri’s past.</p><p> </p><p>After what felt like years of waiting, the familiar sound of slow, balanced breaths returned to the floor beside Newsie. She forced herself to focus on Cherri’s breathing <br/>and tried to relax enough to pull herself out of the fetal position she had unwittingly curled herself into. She held her hands in front of her face, arms outstretched, and waited until her fingers- barely visible in the dark room- had stopped trembling.</p><p> </p><p>She closed her eyes and breathed in deeply, a voice from far in her past resounding through her head. <br/>“Smell the flower, blow out the candle. Find all the different feelings around you.” Newsie continued breathing in through her nose and out through her mouth. She drew her attention to the pilled fabric of the sheets on her bare arms, the cool air which crept under their thin blanket. Her heartbeat returned its regular pace and her thoughts slowed from racing to a light jog.</p><p> </p><p>Newsie rolled onto her side and reached a tentative hand out to her brother’s arm.</p><p> </p><p>“Cherri?” she called softly, shaking him until his eyes blinked half-open.</p><p> </p><p>“I’ll hold ‘em off, it’s okay,” his voice was scratchy, as though his vocal cords had been torn apart and stuck back together with duct tape.</p><p> </p><p>“Cherri it’s me, Newsie.”</p><p> </p><p>“No, you tell ‘em the news,” defeat ran through his words, accentuated by the gentle tears which dripped slowly onto the jacket which served as his pillow.</p><p> </p><p>“Fuck’s sake Cherri, it’s your sister!” Newsie found her throat clogged with desperation and mucus as she shook him again, more forcefully this time.</p><p> </p><p>Cherri sat up with a start, his heart pounding in his chest. Panic flooded through his veins as he frantically tried to recognize the pitch-black room in which he had woken up, still half-trapped in his memories.</p><p> </p><p>“You okay, Cherri?”</p><p> </p><p>Newsie’s voice echoed in his head, returning him to the present and somewhat calming his buzzing mind. He hunched over and pressed his palms into the sides of his head in a futile attempt to rid himself of the voices which forced him to re-live the worst parts of his short past.</p><p> </p><p>“You were… not doin’ so great, I don’t think,” Newsie sat up beside her brother and put her hand over his. She drew it away quickly as his arm tensed up at her touch and cleared her throat instead.</p><p> </p><p>“We don’t have to talk about it if y’ don’t want to. Just- jus’ let me know if there’s anythin’ I can do.”</p><p> </p><p>Cherri nodded slowly, clinging to his sister’s voice as a tether keeping his thoughts focused on the moment at hand.</p><p> </p><p>“Can you just—talk to me f’r a bit?”</p><p> </p><p>“I-yeah. Yeah, I can do that.” Newsie steadied her voice and let words spill from her mouth with no rhyme or reason.</p><p> </p><p>That had been their ritual for the last three years—Newsie would wait until Cherri had stopped crying out for the people he had lost or killed, then she would lie beside him and talk until he let himself drift back to sleep or the sunrise crept into their room and began their day.</p><p> </p><p>It never hurt any less to hear her brother re-living his lowest points, but at least Newsie knew how to keep him from getting stuck. Even so, she was filled with dread at the prospect of getting caught in a clap, anticipating the horrors Cherri would go through that night.</p><p> </p><p>Today had been no different.</p><p> </p><p>They should never have been that close to the City. It wasn’t Scrap Metal’s fault. After all, they had provided all the equipment for the station back when it was created and knew all too well about Cherri’s reluctance to fight.</p><p> </p><p>This was one thing that just couldn’t be transported easily- an antenna big enough that you could feed everyone in the Zones if you filled it to the brim with Power Pup.</p><p> </p><p>“You oughta watch out, Gogo, Cola. There’s a nasty lookin’ patrol headin’ out the City ‘bout ten minutes away.” Scrap had never taken to using Cherri and Newsie’s ‘official’ nicknames but neither of them minded. Other than Dr. D, they had known Scrap Metal longer than anyone else in the Zone. They even helped Newsie find her name—used to call her ‘Go-go Girl’ on account of her ‘Dancin’ around the place all the fuckin’ time.’</p><p> </p><p>They had warned them. They had told them about the patrol, and despite the look of caution which Cherri shot towards his sister as the sleek white car appeared as a pinprick in the distance, she had kept her eyes fixed on the road ahead.</p><p> </p><p>Cherri Cola knew his sister had one hand wrapped around a ray gun, and he rolled the windows down so they could proceed with a familiar ‘Clap-Avoidance Strategy,’ as Newsie had called it.</p><p> </p><p>It began smoothly, Newsie leaned out of the window and took down three Dracs before they even realized the siblings were there. Cherri kept his eyes locked on the horizon, refusing to let his gaze slip to the still, masked bodies on the ground. Shots sounded out from beside him and two more Dracs went down. The job was done, they were all gone- right?</p><p> </p><p>Witch knew it was never that easy.</p><p> </p><p>Being hopeful in the Zones was never a beneficial character trait unless you were using it to push others towards a goal. Cherri knew this, but he still tried to convince himself that the shots he heard after that were just Newsie firing off a victory round. He knew he was wrong before the smiling logo even reached his eyes.</p><p> </p><p>A white van, distorted by the heat waves radiating off the tarmac, appeared on the horizon. Cherri’s blood ran cold when he realized that it was being driven directly towards them by a figure in a taunting white smiley face mask.</p><p> </p><p>The few seconds leading up to the firefight were a blur of panic and white outfits in white vans, surrounded by white-orange sand and a white sun overhead, beating down on Cherri’s white skin. Newsie rolled out of the radio van before they had even come to a stop, on her feet within seconds in a blur of purple and red.</p><p> </p><p>Somehow the two had ended up back-to-back, surrounded by a Crow and at least 15 Dracs.</p><p> </p><p>It was handy that they were both such damn good shots, every pulse of energy hit its mark and knocked it down with a short cry. The issue came when the soulless attackers closed in on the pair of rebels, forcing them into an uncomfortable mix of point-blank shooting and messy hand-to-hand combat.</p><p> </p><p>Cherri was wrestling with one of the two remaining Dracs when Newsie screamed his name from behind.</p><p> </p><p>He turned his head just as she let out a shot from her gun—he never saw the ‘Crow hit the ground. The blinding pain across the right side of his face was too much to bear standing up, so he crouched down, shaking his head in a futile attempt to rid his ears of the high-pitched ringing which echoed through his skull.</p><p> </p><p>Newsie finished off the other Dracs with a racing heart and horror seeping into every inch of her skin.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s gonna be okay, it’s gonna be okay…” She whispered to herself as she led a stumbling Cherri back to the van. Whether she was saying it for her brother or herself, Newsie wasn’t sure.</p><p> </p><p>She booked it to the Station, fear surging through her when Cherri’s eyes began to close and his head hit the car window. He slumped down in his seat and fell silent. With one hand on the wheel and one eye on the road, Newsie fumbled in her brother’s jacket pockets for the small hand-held radio he carried everywhere. It was on the same frequency it had been yesterday evening, which wasn’t surprising.</p><p> </p><p>Static crackled over the airways as Newsie flipped it on, followed by the noise of distant chanting,</p><p> </p><p>“Paint fight! Paint fight! Paint fight!”</p><p> </p><p>“Ghoul! Shut up a sec, would ya? Cherri’s radioed in.” Kobra’s voice was reassuring, and Newsie would have laughed at the lighthearted wolf whistles from the Diner if the <br/>situation hadn’t been so dire.</p><p> </p><p>“Kobra, it’s Newsie. You’re pretty close by th’ station, right?” Kobra was silent for a second, assessing the situation,</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah. Yeah, I can get there in 30 minutes tops, what happened? Is Cherri okay?”</p><p> </p><p>A pang of guilt pulled at Newsie’s chest and unwilling tears blurred her vision of the endless road ahead.</p><p> </p><p>“Fuck. No, I-. We were in a clap, I just need you to get there and tell D, we’ll be there ‘bout twenty minutes after you.”</p><p> </p><p>Keys jangled together on the other side of the line and a brief, mumbled discussion cut through the static while Newsie waited, her foot pressing the pedal to the floor of the van.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, I’m comin’. Can’t stay on the line though, ‘m takin’ the bike.”</p><p> </p><p>Newsie nodded, “See y’ there.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah.”</p><p> </p><p>She looked across at her brother- his face was stark white, the colour made more drastic in comparison with the blood which dripped from the side she couldn’t see onto the door handle.</p><p> </p><p>“’S gonna be okay, Cher. You have to be fucking okay.”</p><p> </p><p>This cursed van was too damn slow for Newsie’s liking.</p><p> </p><p>Thank Witch for the Kobra Kid.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Don't Try</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>(Warning for: Blood, injury.)</p><p>Kobra would never admit that he wasn't better off alone.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Kobra was used to pain. He’d been shot and beaten up so much that the feeling of blood trickling down the back of his throat after a fistfight was all too familiar, almost comforting. He had been battered and bruised as a result of his own actions time and time again, but nothing had hurt like this before.</p><p> </p><p>Twenty minutes, that was what Newsie had said. An alarm clock, its face cracked and scratched up from years of being knocked off the cabinet on which it stood, mocked him with the knowledge that he had only waited for a quarter of that time.</p><p> </p><p>Every second dragged on in Kobra’s mind, each moment when he couldn’t be sure of whether Cherri was okay, whether he was… He refused to let his mind even consider it for a second, channeling his fear into a forced kind of peacefulness.</p><p> </p><p>Time ticked by, drumming its painful rhythm through his skull and scratching at the thoughts to which he refused to give any consideration. If looks could kill, the small clock would have shattered into deadly shards of metal and glass under Kobra’s stony glare. Maybe for the best, he told himself. At least then there would be something, <br/>anything else to focus on.</p><p> </p><p>He sat, helpless, under a crackling fluorescent light in the narrow hallway. Quiet panic and furious determination crashed together, locked in a fervent battle in his mind.</p><p> </p><p>Splinters dug into Kobra’s fingernails as he gripped the arms of the creaky, rotting wooden chair. He squeezed his eyes closed. Every thought was too much to bear. If he relaxed his focus for even a moment his head writhed with images which pumped pure rage through every artery in his body. Cherri could be in any kind of state while he could only sit and do nothing.</p><p> </p><p>Kobra didn’t register the relentless ticking of the clock, nor the dry wooden pole which had snapped off in his hand until he forced his eyes open, unable to watch the scenes playing out in his twisting mind. He looked down at the arm of the chair in surprise and let it fall to the ground with a resounding clatter.</p><p> </p><p>He counted the seconds with military diligence. Whenever his mind wandered, Kobra ran his fingers over the ribbed stitching of his jacket to ground himself in reality.</p><p> </p><p>Five minutes. Then he would know if Cherri was okay, if Newsie’s choked words over the radio’s static had warranted the amount of terror which they had shot into his <br/>pounding heart.</p><p> </p><p>If he had been more like Jet or Ghoul, Kobra would have stayed in the broadcasting studio with Dr. D after giving him what pitiful amount of news he was able to deliver. He had worked for years to convince himself that he was better suited to loneliness in times of distress. To his annoyance, even Kobra’s level of stubbornness couldn’t alter the truth of his nature.</p><p> </p><p>He needed people.</p><p> </p><p>The space which surrounded him when he was alone quickly filled up with anger towards everything he couldn’t change. It was exhausting to live with the remnants of mental programming his head didn’t even have the decency to remember going through. He knew that any minor disturbance flicked a switch somewhere in his brain. It was as though a heat-sensitive lens had been slotted over his mind, showing every problem he had encountered throughout his life in stark contrast to the world around him.</p><p> </p><p>After seeing the shock on Jet’s face at the bruise which had begun to blossom across her shoulder, Kobra had spent exponentially less time at the diner. Jet called it coping, Ghoul called it cowardice. Poison refused to comment on their brother’s desperate brawls- they barely looked at him when he returned as the sun rose, sporting a new injury every time.</p><p> </p><p>Guilt pooled in Kobra’s stomach as he heard the rumble of the radio van approaching. How could he think so hard about himself when Cherri was outside, his condition unknown to anyone but Newsie?</p><p> </p><p>He allowed the thought he had repressed since ending the radio connection between him and Newsagogo almost an hour ago to flood through his brain.</p><p> </p><p>Cherri could be gone. Ghosted, dusted, taken by the Witch. Whatever the fuck you wanted to call it, they all meant the same thing.</p><p> </p><p>Cherri’s heart could have stopped beating while Kobra had sat in a fucking chair, staring at a fucking clock, thinking about his own fucking problems.</p><p> </p><p>Frustration forced Kobra from the rickety chair. His brain, which had been buzzing for the last hour, now felt as though it had left his head and floated up to watch him from the ceiling.</p><p> </p><p>His legs carried his body forwards with jerking, near-robotic movements. Each step was calculated, and the line of travel he was following ended in synchronization with a mechanical shudder and soft metallic clicks from outside.</p><p> </p><p>Kobra was sucked back into his body by Newsie’s call. He forced himself to focus, his thoughts still blurry and disconnected. He concentrated on the jolt sent through his legs from his boots on the concrete floor, the warm paint on the door as he pushed it open, the rush of heat from the blinding sun as he ran towards the graffitied van and Newsie’s fear-stricken face.</p><p> </p><p>Her hands were clenched around the steering wheel, her knuckles whiter than the scars across Kobra’s lip. He couldn’t bring himself to look at the seat beside her despite the morbid curiosity pulling on his thoughts. He stopped before the van, his chest tightening as though someone had tied a rope around it and dragged him across the sand.</p><p> </p><p>He tried to speak, to give Newsie something to hear other than the blood rushing through her head, but his throat wouldn’t allow it. She looked at him with a gaze he knew all too well. </p><p> </p><p>In her eyes, he saw Poison’s despair when one of Ghoul’s ‘experiments’ had covered half his body in burns and knocked him out for a week. He saw the guilt which had been written across their face when Jet’s eye had been blackened, even though it had been far from their fault.</p><p> </p><p>Instinct and routine brought Kobra to Newsie’s door, his boots crunching into the sand as he pulled it open and stood uncomfortably still beside her. Her head dropped to rest between her hands at the top of the steering wheel, her back hunched after an hour of driving with every muscle engaged, holding her together. Kobra moved forwards and put an arm over Newsie’s back in an awkward attempt to comfort her.</p><p> </p><p>He drew it away when she sat up, pried her fingers from the wheel, and steeled herself against the guilt flooding through her every nerve with a determination Kobra had only ever seen in one other person. She nodded at Kobra and jumped carefully from the van, rolling her ankle slightly on the soft sand even so.</p><p> </p><p>They didn’t need to speak. From the second Newsie touched the door handle, Kobra knew the plan. He stood just behind the door’s opening, heat radiating onto his face from the hot metal. Newsie swallowed, closed her eyes, and opened the door.</p><p> </p><p>Kobra’s arms moved of their own accord as Cherri’s pale body fell from the van. If he had been in full control of his movements, Kobra’s limbs would have remained frozen in place at the small glimpse he caught of mangled, blistered skin.</p><p> </p><p>He reached out and wrapped his arms around Cherri’s unconscious form, clutching him close to his own body if only to feel the faint heartbeat thumping alongside his own. Kobra didn’t let go, fearing that the pulse would cease to exist if he couldn’t feel it in his own chest.</p><p> </p><p>“We need to get him inside, Kobra.” Newsie’s voice broke, but she lifted Cherri by the legs, the toes of his boots brushing against the ground as she did so. Kobra looked away before his body turned, displaying the bloody flash rash which adorned the entire right side of Cherri’s head.</p><p> </p><p>His body felt ten times heavier now than it ever had before, even with two people sharing the weight. They struggled through the door and burst into the closest room, in which D was still broadcasting his musings to the Zones. His eyes widened at the sight of the two ‘Joys struggling with Cherri’s limp body as they placed him gently on his armchair.</p><p> </p><p>“Well, Motorbabies, Crash Queens, nameless Runners with your guts and your guns, I’m gonna leave y’all to enjoy a classic from Mad Gear and The Missile Kid.”</p><p> </p><p>Dr. D’s calm voice conflicted against his fearful eyes and hands which tapped gently against the armrest of his wheelchair. He slid a switch to mute himself from the transmission before wheeling around to face Newsie’s fidgeting hands and Kobra’s tense shoulders.</p><p> </p><p>“Y’ need to leave, I’m sorry. Y’all’re no help in this kind ‘f a state.”</p><p> </p><p>Kobra nodded curtly, his mouth a straight line chiseled into his face. His chest ached to stay, but the bile which rose into his throat as the image of Cherri’s head flashed across his vision warned him of the consequences. </p><p> </p><p>Newsie lingered, “I can’t, D. ‘S’all my fault.”</p><p> </p><p>“You can tell me what happened later, Newsie. Y’need someone conscious right now, and he needs someone too, even if he won’ admit it.”</p><p> </p><p>She made her way towards the doorframe, her gaze trailing away from Cherri as if her eyes could keep him alive if she only kept looking.</p><p> </p><p>Kobra hadn’t been able to force himself too far from Cherri. Newsie left the room to see him stood, stock still and staring at the blank, pale yellow wall of the corridor.</p><p> </p><p>“He’s gonna be okay.” Newsie whispered, not quite sure who she was trying to convince.</p><p> </p><p>Kobra just nodded. He didn’t cry, The Kobra Kid had never cried as far as anyone outside the Fab Four (and Cherri) knew.</p><p> </p><p>“Fuckin’ better be,” he muttered, his voice cracking.</p><p> </p><p>“Nothin’ we can do. Just pray to Witch he makes it.” She sighed, the hard leather of her jacket creaking as she leaned back against the wall. “I’m so fuckin’ sorry.”</p><p> </p><p>Kobra hesitated, “You did that shit?”</p><p> </p><p>Newsie just nodded in response, forcing her eyelids together as the tears she had held back since the clap spilled onto her face.</p><p> </p><p>“News?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yea?” her voice trembled as a pair of arms wrapped her up in a hug which felt like Cherri’s voice on a dark night- something to cling to while the world tumbled to pieces.</p><p> </p><p>“’S gonna be okay.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Sorry about that, y'all.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. All the Light We Need</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>(No warnings, they're just not having a good time.)</p><p>It had been a long night for everyone in the Station.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The scene before which Dr. Death-Defying sat was washed with an air of serenity. The two Killjoys sprawled across the couch seemed to exist in their own pocket of the world, in which the trauma they were far too young to have endured had simply never happened. </p><p> </p><p>Morning light spilled in through the dusty windows and bathed them in a golden glow. Dr. D had heard nothing from his room all night other than quiet sobs and muttered reassurances which neither of them had the spirit to fully believe. The two must have fallen asleep after he had finished dressing Cherri’s wounds, exhausted after fighting the guilt and horror which had gnawed away at them since the incident. </p><p> </p><p>Newsie’s nose wrinkled as a strand of hair fell across her face. She shifted in her sleep and turned further into Kobra’s shoulder. His eyelids twitched and D held his breath—they deserved as much time without reliving yesterday’s terror as they could manage.</p><p> </p><p>The two ‘Joys- a sister and a lover- seemed completely at peace with the world. They were too tired to dream, thank the Witch, instead wrapped in uninterrupted slumber. It was a luxury they deserved more than any other after seeing someone so close to them waver across the edges of life. </p><p> </p><p>Despite his reluctance, Dr. D cleared his throat loudly and wheeled into the haphazard living/bed/dining room they had thrown together over the years. He surveyed the homely mess of furniture and nostalgia crept into his thoughts.</p><p> </p><p>He saw Cherri sketching on the jumbled collection of mismatched stools, carving one of many chunks out of the surface of the wooden table with Kobra’s knife when Pony had snuck up behind him and poured glitter into Cherri’s hair. His mind was overwhelmed with images of Newsie and her brother roaring with laughter on the large brown leather couch, of Cherri curled up on the twin mattress, shoved against the wall beneath the window when Jet had needed the space in his room. </p><p> </p><p>He shook his head, chastising himself. He’s not dead yet, you can’t keep acting as though the Witch has come for him already. Even as the thought crossed his mind, D was sure he had seen her last night. A glimpse of her feathers, rustling over Cherri’s still body as his pulse slowed to a halt. A whisper not meant for D’s ears, then a soft laugh as her presence disappeared and oxygenated blood began to pump through Cherri’s veins once more.</p><p> </p><p>The room had grown a little warmer as the Witch vanished, but her disappearance left a vast expanse of emptiness in his stomach. D’s own heart had sunk low into his chest from the weight of Cherri’s injuries. Each beat was thick and heavy, reminding him of the task which lay ahead. </p><p> </p><p>His lips pursed into a thin line under his moustache. He couldn’t avoid the truth of the matter. He cleared his throat again, a little louder than before.</p><p> </p><p>Kobra stirred and shifted on the couch, </p><p> </p><p>“Go ‘way, Poison. ‘S too fuckin’ early.” </p><p> </p><p>Dr. D sighed, reluctant to draw him out of his perceived reality. </p><p> </p><p>“It’s Dr. D, Kobra. You’re in the station.” The words hung heavily in the air, lingering on the particles of dust illuminated by the rising sun.</p><p> </p><p>Kobra inhaled sleepily and squinted against the sunlight which glared into his face. He attempted to push himself up into a seated position with the arm on which Newsie had been laying, but quickly realized that it was asleep. His elbow buckled and whacked Newsie in the side as her head slid from his shoulder to the couch with a soft thud.</p><p> </p><p>“Cherriii, get off. ‘M gonna beat you up,” she mumbled. She pushed Kobra’s legs away and curled up into a ball on the worn seat.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh shit, Cherri,” Kobra whispered, the previous day’s pain flooding back through his sleep-filled brain. He finally pried his eyelids apart, memories kick-starting his brain like jumper cables on a dead bike. His eyes locked onto Dr. D’s in a silent plea for information. Desperation radiated from his hunched shoulders and the lines of concern set deep into his forehead.</p><p> </p><p>“Hasn’t woken up yet.”</p><p> </p><p>Kobra exhaled through his mouth and slumped forwards, catching his head in his hands, elbows rested on his knees. </p><p> </p><p>“I know, Kid.” Sorrow clogged D’s throat, but he pushed through. For Kobra’s sake, he told himself. “I need t’ talk t’ Newsie. Ask her what happened. She tell you anything?”</p><p> </p><p>Kobra shook his head, his fingers tangled in his hair.</p><p> </p><p>“Just kept sayin’ it was her fault,” he mumbled, and clenched his hands into fists. D placed a hand on Kobra’s arm and his grip relaxed. </p><p> </p><p>“He’s gonna be okay, I woudn’ say that if I didn’t think it was true. ‘M just not sure when.” </p><p> </p><p>“Yeah.” Kobra looked down at Newsie’s face, which was smushed up against the leather seat of the couch in a way that didn’t look particularly comfortable. “We really need to wake ‘er up?” </p><p> </p><p>Dr. D nodded gravely. Kobra grimaced and shook her jacket-clad shoulder lightly.</p><p> </p><p>“Hey Newsie, you need t’ wake up.”</p><p> </p><p>Newsie groaned and unfurled herself, stretching out with her arms and legs and shoving Kobra in the side. “Pow!” she mumbled with a playful smile, “Told you I’d beat y’ up.”</p><p> </p><p>Kobra smiled despite himself, “Newsie, c’mon. ‘S Kobra Kid.” </p><p> </p><p>Newsie scrunched up her face and pushed herself up on the couch. She rubbed her palms into her eyes and dragged her hands down her face as she forced her eyelids open. A few quick glances at Kobra and D peeled away her carefree expression and revealed the mask of guilt and fear she had worn the day before.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh.” </p><p> </p><p>Dr. D opened his mouth to speak, then closed it and swallowed. His mind waged a miniature war between discovering the truth and allowing Newsie to see her brother. The latter outweighed the former with a wave of almost paternal empathy.</p><p> </p><p>“You can see ‘im now, if you want to.” </p><p> </p><p>Newsie’s eyes flashed with a fleeting glimpse of hope. </p><p> </p><p>“Before y’ go in, I oughta tell you. He ain’t lookin’ too shiny. Whatever happened out there was real fuckin’ bad. He hasn’ woken up yet and to be honest I’m not sure when he will. All I know is he’s not goin’ anywhere anytime soon.” </p><p> </p><p>Even when delivering news which would make any ‘Joy’s life a nightmare, D’s voice had the somewhat disquieting ability to soothe the recipient into a calm acceptance until they could find somewhere to fully comprehend their new reality.</p><p> </p><p>Kobra looked to Newsie, who nodded solemnly and rose to her feet. Every step she took was a battle between the urgent need to see her brother and an ever-growing sense of trepidation about what she would be unable to deny once it was laid out before her. </p><p> </p><p>The two moved quickly towards the broadcasting room, though each step seemed to take ten years off their lifespan. Every footfall echoed in Kobra’s ears, growing to a crescendo once he reached the door. </p><p> </p><p>“He’s in th’ chair. Didn’ wanna move ‘im too much.” Dr. D’s gruff voice betrayed the fear he had repressed for the sake of his family.</p><p> </p><p>Kobra waited behind Newsie in the cramped corridor as she stood staring at the door’s chipped paint, gripping the handle so hard it seemed as though it would shatter in her hand.</p><p> </p><p>Anxiety pooled in Kobra’s stomach with every passing second which sounded from that damn alarm clock. He rested a hand on Newsie’s shoulder, and she nodded. </p><p> </p><p>She took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and turned the handle.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Is this just one scene? Yes. Did it take up 4 pages? Yes.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Avoid the Call</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Despite its new full-time resident, the broadcasting room had never felt more empty.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Warnings: Blood/injury mention</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Cherri’s face was flecked with sunlight and the few spots of dried blood Dr. D had missed. </p><p> </p><p>The entire right side of his head was swathed in fresh bandages. His long legs were draped over one side of the armchair, arms curled tightly into his chest. He had remained where D had laid him on his side, facing the back of the cracked leather chair so as not to inflame his injury any further. </p><p> </p><p>A large dark green blanket set a stark contrast against the lack of colour in Cherri’s face. His body trembled slightly beneath the soft material despite the ceaseless heat of the day and the small beads of sweat clustered around his hairline. </p><p> </p><p>The tension which had been crushing Newsie’s heart and lungs slowly released as she saw the gentle rise and fall of her brother’s chest. Her legs carried her of their own accord from the door. Newsie became quieter as she drew near to Cherri, afraid of waking him as though he were simply enjoying a pleasant dream. She needn’t have taken the precaution; he hadn’t stirred when she and Kobra had lugged him through the station, nor when D had cleaned and dressed the wounds on his head. </p><p> </p><p>Newsie’s nose and throat burned with the acrid scent of antiseptic and hydrogen peroxide. Even so, she was certain that a hint of Cherri’s burning flesh remained beneath the overwhelming chemical stench. His skin radiated warmth, and when Newsie placed a hand on her brother’s arm it was burning as though he’d gone back to laying in the sun for days on end. </p><p> </p><p>“Fuck, Cher.”</p><p> </p><p>She stared at the small burn marks which extended from beneath the bandages like spiders’ legs imbued with lightning. The gauze stretched from the side of Cherri’s mouth to just behind his ear. Newsie forced herself to look at the uncovered parts of his face instead—every moment spent staring at the dressed wound was another moment spent re-living the split second in which she had caused it. </p><p> </p><p>Kobra lingered in the doorway. His chest ached at the sight of Cherri laid out on the chair, immobile and feverish. Though he wished he could run over and wrap him up with sun-tanned arms to keep him safe for as long as humanly possible, he held back. Newsie deserved a moment alone- he was her brother, after all. </p><p> </p><p>Very few siblings shared even a drop of blood in the Zones. It wasn’t difficult to see that these two were no exception. The dark brown and purple hair which hung just above Newsie’s shoulders was a far cry from Cherri’s dirty blond cut. Cherri’s pale skin was considerably lighter than Newsie’s brown complexion, and his long legs and arms set him at least half a head taller than her. Nevertheless, they were brother and sister, wholly and undeniably. </p><p> </p><p>A low, reassuring voice pulled Kobra from his reverie. </p><p> </p><p>“Wasn’ a lot of blood, ‘s probably just shock that knocked ‘im out.” D wheeled past Kobra to take his usual place at the broadcasting desk and turned his chair towards Newsie and Cherri. </p><p> </p><p>Kobra hummed softly in response, then turned his focus to Newsie with a silent request for permission. </p><p> </p><p>Newsie looked up at Kobra, her green and brown eyes entirely free from tears despite her brother’s condition. She nodded at the question written on his face and he joined her at Cherri’s side. </p><p> </p><p>He looked so peaceful, despite the gauze and scorched flesh adorning his head. A small smile played on Kobra’s lips. Newsie raised an eyebrow,</p><p> </p><p>“What?”</p><p> </p><p>“I was just thinkin’, this is probably the most he’s slept in years. Motherfucker wakes up if the cacti grow too loud.”</p><p> </p><p>She hummed in agreement, her expression softening just enough to be noticeable.</p><p> </p><p>“Newsie?” Kobra hesitated, fear of discovering the unknown almost stopping the question as it formed in his mouth.</p><p> </p><p>“Mhm.”</p><p> </p><p>“What happened out there?”</p><p> </p><p>She sighed, exhaling heavily through her mouth. </p><p> </p><p>“We weren’t thinkin’ there’d be so many of ‘em.” She tilted her head back and took another deep breath, forcing the emotion out of her voice.</p><p> </p><p>“Patrol o’ Dracs showed up, got rid of ‘em pretty fuckin’ quick. Then things got a little Costa Rica, y’know?”</p><p> </p><p>Kobra nodded, his gaze trained on Cherri’s closed eyes, dappled with sunlight.</p><p> </p><p>“Well, yeah. There were- was- s’it was or were if there’s more than one?” Newsie paused for a second, then continued, “Doesn’ matter, anyway. Turned out there was more of ‘em than we thought. At least five Dracs an’ a fuckin’ Crow.” Newsie’s voice cracked on the end of her last word as the scene replayed in her mind.</p><p> </p><p>“We had t’ get out the van, wasn’ safe not to. They—fuck, the No-Shows closed in on us, we were pretty much wrestlin’ with ‘em. Cherri was fightin’ one of the Dracs an’ he didn’t see-“ Newsie pinched her leg through her jeans as tears welled up in her eyes, </p><p> </p><p>“He didn’ see the ‘Crow. I- I yelled ‘is name but it was too fuckin’ late.” Every word forced from Newsie’s mouth was a battle of sheer determination not to let herself cry. “I shot it, I shot the motherfucker but it was so close to Cherri, I must’a got him too. I didn’ mean to, promise, I jus’ wanted to keep ‘im safe, I didn’ mean for this to happen, this wasn’ meant to fuckin’ happen!”</p><p> </p><p>Newsie only realized how much she had raised her voice when the weight of the silence which hung in the air had settled on her shoulders. </p><p> </p><p>“’M sorry.” Her words bounced around the room, though they were mostly focused towards Cherri. The weight which had been lifted as she let the story spill from her mouth was replaced with an emptiness which gnawed at her like a starved rat.</p><p> </p><p>D cleared his throat and moved over to rest beside the armchair. </p><p> </p><p>“’S not the end of the world, Newsie. I’d reckon ‘e’ll be up in a day at th’ most. He’s not gonna blame you for savin’ his damn life.” </p><p> </p><p>“Neither are we, News.” Kobra muttered, unsure of what exactly to say. What can you say to your boyfriend’s sister when the longest conversation you’ve ever had without him was on the night he almost died?</p><p> </p><p>“Another thing, News. S’up to you what the Zones find out- I can tell ‘em fuck all, let everyone think shit’s shiny, or I can let ‘em know what’s goin’ on with Cherri.” Dr. D kept his focus on Cherri—pressure was one thing Newsie didn’t need right now.</p><p> </p><p>She nodded, twisting her fingers as cogs turned in her brain, weighing out the pros and cons of each option. </p><p> </p><p>“I think- I think it’s best we keep this quiet for now. Kobra, you can tell the rest o’ the Four if y’ want, but let’s not let it get further ‘n that, shiny?”</p><p> </p><p>“Shiny.”  Kobra nodded. </p><p> </p><p>His conversation with Poison took only a few minutes of crackling dialogue: A quick explanation, the mutual understanding that Kobra wouldn’t return to the Diner until he’d seen Cherri’s eyes look into his again, and a concerned goodbye from his sibling preceded the harsh click of the handheld radio.</p><p>.<br/>
The three moved throughout the station like ghosts in the week which followed. An unspoken agreement was made in which one person would sleep in the broadcasting room each night, watching over Cherri. </p><p> </p><p>Not a word of Cherri’s injury was heard on Dr. Death-Defying’s broadcasts, true to his word. The absence of Cherri Cola’s Poetry Corner was dismissed with the claim of a long run which kept the Zones’ favourite poet from his ramblings.</p><p> </p><p>Newsie was often found flipping through Cherri’s sketchbook under the moonlight which seeped in through the window. The other two had often walked in on her sitting on the small mattress, her back pressed against the wall and her knees drawn tightly to her chest. They would never tell a soul about the tear tracks which glistened on her face in the faint starlight, not least because they knew that each of them felt the same weight dragging their morale across the rough concrete floor at all hours.</p><p> </p><p>Silence spread from the broadcasting room throughout the entire Station like a thick fog. Kobra would find himself outside the door with no recollection of the walk which must have preceded his arrival.</p><p> </p><p>It would have been a cruel trick of the Witch to have timed that night any differently.<br/>
Newsie was curled up in a small nest of blankets on the floor beside her brother, her body and mind numb to the cold and guilt which had become commonplace. Her tangled thoughts began to give way to troubled sleep when a soft sound came from the armchair.</p><p> </p><p>She strained her ears, struggling to grasp onto any possibility that the noise hadn’t been a taunting delusion, the result of seven mostly sleepless nights. </p><p> </p><p>Another groan sounded from beside her and Newsie stumbled to her feet. Her legs wavered, still slightly asleep, but her senses had sharpened. The broadcasting room was near pitch-black, but Newsie could just make out the slow movement of Cherri’s head as it turned to face her.</p><p> </p><p>“Newsiiee?” It sounded as if his lips had gone numb, the vowels messy and slurred, but the name was undeniably hers. </p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, yeah! It’s me, ‘m right here.” Newsie’s solemn face split into a grin. Her heart swelled with relief so much that it threatened to burst out of her chest. “I’ll be right back, I promise you.”</p><p> </p><p>She reached over and squeezed her brother’s arm gently before quietly running from the room and bolting down the corridor. Newsie burst into D’s room, her eyes gleaming in the dark. The door hit the wall with a resounding whack as she threw it open and hissed his name.</p><p> </p><p>“D… D! Wake up!” </p><p> </p><p>The door of the second bedroom creaked open, followed by stumbling footsteps.</p><p> </p><p>“News, it’s fuckin’ ass o’ clock in the mornin’. ‘Wanna sleep, not listen t’ you bashin’ doors around.” Newsie turned at the sound of Kobra’s hoarse voice. She beamed at him, her heart racing. </p><p> </p><p>“It’s Cherri. He’s awake.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Cobwebs</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>There are some things you just can't tell your sister. Especially once she's almost ended your life.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Warnings: Injury mention, death mention, anxiety.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>He couldn’t see. His eyes were open, but the world was black. His body was made of lead, keeping him weighed down into an unchanging position. The side of his head itched but he couldn’t move an arm to scratch it. </p><p> </p><p>Blood rushed through his body as his heart beat at an alarming rate, a muffled thumping in his chest. Adrenaline poured into his veins and urged his limbs to move. He focused all his energy on moving what he could, clenching his hands into fists and releasing them slowly. Once he had managed to push himself painfully into a slumped, half-seated position, pins and needles flooding through his arms, Cherri turned his attention to his surroundings. </p><p> </p><p>His eyes had finally adjusted to the suffocating darkness. He could just make out a desk piled high with equipment and bundles of wires, accompanied by the faint outline of an office chair. Silence lay over him like a thick blanket, warping his perception of the room. He’d been here at night before but there had always been some sound. Had he shifted into a twisted dream rather than the real world? </p><p> </p><p>Memories swirled in a muddled pool, each one escaping Cherri’s grasp as he tried to picture the events which had led to this. Something was covering the side of his head and his hair hung in front of his eyes. Images filtered through his brain like one of the old movies Ghoul would watch on the station’s battered TV set. One scene stood out- dark and ethereal between the flashes of white and neon. </p><p> </p><p>He watched the memory play out- a feathered figure he knew all too well, smiling and handing him something soft and black. She shook her head and leaned in to whisper in his ear. </p><p> </p><p>“Not yet. You’re still needed in this world.”</p><p> </p><p>Cherri clung to the vision of her eyes, childish but showing the wisdom of a thousand lives, filled with joy and sorrow, acceptance and denial, all melding together behind her mask. He was encapsulated in the multitude of existences before him until a flash of light broke him from his reverie.</p><p> </p><p>He squeezed his eyes shut at the sudden interruption. He blinked slowly until the light became just about bearable.</p><p> </p><p>The room swam and went fuzzy, a blur of switchboards and something… tall. Something yellow and red, attached on top of a blurry black rectangle. It was moving closer, slowly but buzzing with energy as though it was holding back from breaking into a full sprint. Cherri’s eyelids began to droop again, but he fought to remain conscious with every nerve in his body. He opened his eyes to a blur of yellow and black. He squeezed them tightly closed and tried to channel everything he had into clearing the view before him. When he forced his eyes open again, a gently freckled face laced with small remnants of previous injuries smiled ruefully back at him. </p><p> </p><p>The scarred lips moved, but only a muffled hum reached Cherri’s ears. His head felt as though it had been plunged underwater, leaving him to float unaided in an abyss. It wasn’t quite like drowning, but he wasn’t sure that he had the strength to break through the swirling confusion.  </p><p> </p><p>The familiar figure bit his lip. He leaned forwards and brought Cherri’s drifting mind back to the present with a crashing wave of emotion. The embrace in which he was wrapped pulled him from the muddled confusion. He knew this feeling- he knew this person. </p><p> </p><p>Cherri instantly reached out with arms powered by desperation and pulled Kobra closer. His fingers gripped to the smooth leather of his jacket as best they could, clinging to the only thing he could be entirely sure was real. Hot tears dampened his collar as they rolled slowly down Kobra’s cheek. </p><p> </p><p>“Wha’ happened?” Cherri’s voice was muffled and distant to his ears. He mentally disregarded it as a result of whatever was plastered against the side of his head. Kobra leaned back to look Cherri in the eyes, his own glistening and bloodshot. He opened his mouth but closed it soundlessly as he looked down to his hands. </p><p> </p><p>He mumbled something intelligible, then looked back up at Cherri expectantly. Cherri’s eyebrows furrowed. Parts of the scene which had led him here were clicking together like a puzzle in his mind. None of them yet explained why he couldn’t hear Kobra when he spoke. </p><p> </p><p>There had been a clap, of that he was certain. Of course, he couldn’t remember anything important, just the trivial sensations of a firefight. A ray gun humming in his hands, the sun bearing down on his neck, a trembling release of energy as he shot down a faceless enemy, and a searing pain racing across his face. Cherri reached up a hand to the bandages on his head but was stopped by Kobra’s firm grip on his wrist.</p><p> </p><p>“Not sure… good idea.” Cherri caught snippets of the sentence, faint as though they were an echo of his voice. He removed his arm from Kobra’s grasp and slowly laced their fingers together. Kobra leaned in and touched his forehead to Cherri’s. </p><p> </p><p>The first words Cherri had clearly heard since waking up were like rain in the Zones—unexpected, but blissfully welcome. “I missed you.” Kobra muttered, his head turned slightly towards Cherri’s left side. He smiled lazily, the tape on the bandages pulling against his skin. </p><p> </p><p>“Fucker, I saw you two days ago.” </p><p> </p><p>Kobra lifted his head from Cherri’s and squeezed his hand a little tighter.</p><p> </p><p>“You... You've been out for a week, Cola.” </p><p> </p><p>The metaphorical punch to the gut Cherri received was enough for him to finally notice the dark circles under Kobra’s eyes, his hair coated with grease. His gaze turned subconsciously to the hand he was holding. The tension which had built in his chest loosened when he saw only the familiar scars from reckless fights of the past. </p><p> </p><p>“Hey, Kobra, is he…?” Newsie poked her head through the doorway, concern written in the lines on her face. She let out a small ‘oh,’ when she saw Kobra kneeling beside Cherri’s chair, their hands clasped together. Cherri was awkwardly slumped sideways in the armchair, his knees still over one end while his body was twisted to face Kobra. </p><p> </p><p>Newsie ran over as Kobra stood up, keeping his fingers locked with Cherri’s until the last possible moment. She crushed her brother in a hug which she had been holding back for a week.</p><p> </p><p>“Don’t you ever fuckin’ do that again, asshole.” </p><p> </p><p>“’T least I didn’ have t’ see your face,” Cherri smirked, his own voice muffled in his ears. </p><p> </p><p>Newsie grinned and hugged Cherri a little tighter, “I’m so sorry.” </p><p> </p><p>A pang of guilt tugged at Cherri’s stomach. “I’m okay, Newsie. I’d be dead if it wasn’ for you.”</p><p> </p><p>“Could’a been dead ‘cause of me.” Newsie’s grip had loosened, her face now buried in Cherri’s shoulder as though he would be gone if she dared uncover her eyes. </p><p> </p><p>Cherri fell silent. He couldn’t deny the claim; just because he was talking to his sister didn’t mean there wasn’t a chance he could have been taking a one-way trip with the Witch at that very moment.</p><p> </p><p>“’M not goin’ anywhere.” </p><p> </p><p>Newsie pulled away, a somber smile playing on her lips. She muttered something Cherri couldn’t hear, but he smiled and nodded all the same. No point in worrying his sister any further. </p><p> </p><p>Kobra moved over from the dark window to crouch beside the arm of the chair and laid his head to rest lightly against Cherri’s. His forehead had cooled from the burning fever which he suffered while passed out. The memory of carrying Cherri, bloody and limp, from the van flashed through Kobra’s head like a freshly healed wound torn back open. He stood quickly and squeezed Cherri’s shoulder gently before turning to leave the room. Kobra nodded at D as they passed one another in the doorway, then hastened towards the Station’s cramped kitchen. </p><p> </p><p>He went through the motions thoughtlessly—pulling the small jar of dried mint from the lower shelves, unhooking four tin mugs from Chimp’s ‘mug cactus’-a wire holder made of old scrap wire and coat hangers, filling the metal saucepan with a bottle of water and clicking on the propane stove. </p><p> </p><p>As he poured the weak tea and left it to brew, his mind forced him to re-live those excruciating 45 minutes. Everything played in perfect clarity except for Cherri’s injuries, which he had blocked from his memory as if ignoring them would reverse their existence. His breathing became shallow and his hands clenched into tight fists. Kobra forced himself to open his eyes, which he hadn’t even realized were closed, and walked towards the mismatched mugs. </p><p> </p><p>He carried a plastic tray with the steaming drinks back to the station, still caught up on his persistent recollections. Newsie was staring out of the window at the desolate night. Kobra only realized why when he had put down the tray and could shift his attention to the room. </p><p> </p><p>Cherri was sat upright in the chair, facing Dr. D. The bandages covering half of his head were stained with splotches of yellow tinged with red. His eyes drooped closed and blinked slowly, only opening fully again when D shook his arm lightly.</p><p> </p><p>“S’alright, kiddo. S’gonna be okay. Jus’ stay with me, y’hear?” </p><p> </p><p>Kobra watched from the entrance of the room, cautious of trying to help in case he just made things worse. Newsie drummed her fingertips on the windowsill without any particular rhythm. Cherri’s eyes remained open, but his face had drained of colour as a result of sitting up after a week of sedentary healing. He glanced over to Kobra and gave him a lazy thumbs-up. Kobra returned the gesture, smiling a little despite himself.</p><p> </p><p>D wheeled himself back from the armchair as he nodded at Kobra, concern still lining the creases of his face. Kobra picked up the tray and carried it over. </p><p> </p><p>He sat on the ground, his back against Cherri’s armchair, a warm mug clutched in his hands. Newsie was perched on the arm of the chair, glancing towards her brother every time he moved to take a drink. </p><p> </p><p>No-one said a word until the last drops of tea were gone from their mugs and the metal had grown cool. </p><p> </p><p>D sighed and placed his mug in the cupholder Chimp had attached to his chair. </p><p> </p><p>“I best be takin’ a look at your head, kid. If that’s a’right with you, course.”</p><p> </p><p>Cherri nodded slowly as though he weren’t sure what he was agreeing with. </p><p> </p><p>“Okay. Y’all can stay if y’ want, but it’s gonna be a little gruesome.” D’s mouth was set into a determined line, but his worry for Kobra and Newsie was evident when he looked each of them in the eyes. </p><p> </p><p>Newsie nodded and reached over to give her brother a tight, one-armed hug before hopping off the armchair and leaving the room in a hurry. She paused to swipe Cherri’s sketchbook from the desk before walking purposefully to her room and closing the door with a click. </p><p> </p><p>Kobra followed her to the corridor but turned instead to the ‘living room’ after stealing a quick kiss with Cherri. </p><p> </p><p>When the two sat alone in the room from which the music and reports which fueled the Zones emanated, Cherri looked down at his left hand. He opened it slowly, lifting each finger individually. When his hand lay flat, the small black feather which lay in its palm was revealed. </p><p> </p><p>D swore under his breath, though Cherri couldn’t hear him. He just stared at the feather as it shifted like oil, colours swirling and mixing throughout its barbs. He turned it over and closed his fist once more before turning his head to look at Dr. D.</p><p> </p><p>“You-you doin’ okay?” D asked quietly. </p><p> </p><p>The truth of his situation welled up in Cherri’s brain as he watched D’s lips move without hearing anything he could define as words. Fear which he had been holding down for Newsie's sake (though she would hate that he had done so,) now rose up through his spine, clogging his throat and forcing tears to his eyes.</p><p> </p><p>He swore quietly, the words catching in his throat.</p><p> </p><p>“I can’t hear you, D. I can’t hear anyone.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Sorry this chapter wasn't up on time, it's been a long week. But hey, Cherri's okay! (ish).</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Simple Worries</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Newsie heads out to visit an old friend of D's. They all know she can handle herself in a clap, but you can't fight your own thoughts with a ray-gun.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Mild warning for anxiety, but that's all</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Fuck.” Newsie’s voice broke the silence which followed Cherri’s confession. Static rumbled through her stomach and piled into her brain—she had done this. This was entirely her fault, nothing Cherri, Kobra, or D said would ever change that.</p><p> </p><p>It was ironic- was that the word? Ironic or just plain shitty, that the one person she wanted to protect got hurt because she tried to save his life. They had always had each other’s backs, but she couldn’t suppress the feeling that she had stabbed her brother in his. </p><p> </p><p>The room around Newsie began to spin. The walls grew closer and crushed her until she couldn’t breathe. Her arms were stuck by her sides, keeping her from fighting back against the encroaching stone as it suffocated her. </p><p> </p><p>No, she couldn’t let this happen, couldn’t let herself get stuck in the turmoil of her thoughts, her regrets, the dream of turning back time to heal blossoming wounds. This couldn’t control her, not if she just thought for once in her life—found a solution instead of a useless pile of guilt. </p><p> </p><p>The more Newsie fought to escape from the fog which crept through her mind, the more it wrapped up her thoughts in dewy confusion. She could no longer see the room in front of her. Her mind raced with empty thoughts, useless wads of paper which rattled around in her clouded skull.  </p><p> </p><p>She couldn’t feel the floor beneath her, nor could she feel her own body. She became a floating bundle of shapeless thoughts, twisting and buzzing like the static which came over a dead radio line. </p><p> </p><p>A familiar hand pulled Newsie back from her formless spiral. Cherri squeezed her upper arm gently, as he had done so many times before. It was some small comfort for the two of them, that each knew what the other needed when their minds turned against them. </p><p> </p><p>Her brother always knew that she needed to feel that someone else was there. It was the only thing which could fully pull her from the web of thoughts in which she so often became tangled. </p><p> </p><p>“S’not the end of th’ world, Newsie.” </p><p> </p><p>She merely nodded in response, unable to look up at Cherri’s mangled head. It was terrible- she knew it was terrible- that she wouldn’t even look at her brother, but even the thought of it brought guilt and horror bubbling up in her throat. </p><p> </p><p>“C’mere,” Cherri drew his sister into a hug—the first they had been able to properly share for over a week. Newsie despised feeling weak, especially when she wasn’t the one who had only opened their eyes eight hours ago. In this moment, however, she just felt safe. </p><p> </p><p>Trepidation had been eating away at her heart and lungs for the past week, and it felt as though they were finally given relief. </p><p> </p><p>The sinew which had unraveled and torn began to knit itself back together as she squeezed her eyes shut and returned Cherri’s embrace. </p><p> </p><p>“I just—thank Witch you’re alive,” the words were mumbled into her brother’s left ear, just close enough that he could hear Newsie’s voice crack with emotion. </p><p> </p><p>Cherri let go of his sister and turned back towards the chipped wooden table where Kobra and D were sat in hushed conversation. Kobra’s head rested in his hands, his elbows propping him up on the table. </p><p> </p><p>Newsie took a deep, shaky breath and passed Cherri to take a seat with them. D sat back in his wheelchair and looked towards her, clearing his throat as Cherri pulled up a stool between Newsie and Kobra.</p><p> </p><p>“The Kid ‘n I’ve been talking.” The others remained silent as he sat up and scratched his chin. “This ain’t no way to keep talkin’ to someone.” He gestured towards the notepad filled with notes in his and Kobra’s handwriting.</p><p> </p><p>“Hey D?” Cherri spoke louder than usual, setting Newsie slightly on edge. “Still can’t hear you.”</p><p> </p><p>“Shit, right,” Dr. D muttered, and reached for the pen and notepad by Kobra’s hands. He<br/>
scribbled down a short sentence and slid it across the table to Cherri. He nodded, and D continued. </p><p> </p><p>“Look, I’m a voice on th’ airways. Never needed to know how t’ talk any other way- not ‘til now, anyhow.” </p><p> </p><p>Newsie nodded, “So what now, then. There’s other ‘Joys who can’ hear, this ain’t no different.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, that’s what I’m getting’ to, News. I know someone, name’s Echo. Was thinkin’ they could help us out.” D leaned across the table and pulled the notepad back towards himself. He touched the end of the pen to his mustache, then wrote down a few sentences. Cherri took the pad and nodded.</p><p> </p><p>“She’s been keepin’ a record of all the new ZSL since… Since their eyes were open, I’d reckon.  ‘S just an idea, but it makes more sense than writin’ shit down all th’ time.”</p><p> </p><p>“’S a good thought, D,  but that’s a whole fuckin’ language. Yeah we should learn it, but there’s gotta be somthin’ else we can do in th’ meantime, right?” Newsie brought a finger to her mouth and chewed on one of her already bitten nails.</p><p> </p><p>“I can go now, talk to her ‘n… I dunno, get the basics do- dow- down?” Kobra tried- and failed- to suppress a yawn and Dr. D looked over with concern.</p><p> </p><p>“You’re not goin’ anywhere except to bed, Kid.”</p><p> </p><p>“’M sorry Kobra, but y’ look like someone tied ya to th’ back of a bike and dragged you ‘cross all of Zone Five.” Newsie smirked. Kobra shot a half-hearted glare across the table, but the yawn which interrupted him somewhat lessened its effect. Besides, Newsie had made up her mind the second D had mentioned Echo.</p><p> </p><p>“I’ll go. This is my fault, I’m at least gonna try ‘n help.” </p><p> </p><p>Newsie looked D dead in the eyes. Her decision was made, and the two came to a silent agreement.</p><p> </p><p>“Just… Keep your gun close an’ your heart beatin, Newsie.” </p><p> </p><p>She nodded, then turned to write a note on the pad in front of Cherri. ‘Going to see Echo. Don’t wreck my shit while I’m gone.’</p><p> </p><p>Cherri snorted, “Asshole.”</p><p> </p><p>Newsie was crouched by the front door, pulling the Velcro on her boots tight around her calf. Her dark purple and brown hair was pulled into two low bunches which just reached the collar of her worn jacket. She drummed on the toes of her boots with her fingertips, subconsciously following the Mad Gear song which emanated from the broadcasting room. </p><p> </p><p>The distinct sound of Dr. D’s wheelchair halted Newsie’s tapping as she turned her head to watch him roll towards her.</p><p> </p><p>“Next time I see you, y’ better be all in one piece. Y’ hear me Gogo?” </p><p> </p><p>Newsie nodded, tapping the purple ray gun in the holster at her hip. “Y’ know I can handle m’self in a clap, D.” She stood and shook out her arms, her jacket settling into place. </p><p> </p><p>“S’ not the Dracs I’m worried about.” </p><p> </p><p>Newsie looked down at her scuffed boots, “Yeah. I know.” </p><p> </p><p>“Look kid, I can’t tell y’ anythin’ you ain’t smart enough to know already. Jus’ keep that head of yours screwed on right, an’ I’ll be on the airwaves if it gets too loud up in there.”</p><p> </p><p>“Thanks, D.” A solemn smile played on Newsie’s lips. </p><p> </p><p>He nodded and returned the smile for a second before turning back towards the broadcasting room.</p><p> </p><p>Guilt still weighed heavily on Newsie’s chest as she approached the front door and gripped the handle. She leaned forwards and rested her head on the warm wood, already longing to turn back—to sit in the living room with Cherri while he idly messed with Kobra’s hair as they talked about nothing in particular. </p><p> </p><p>It was only a day’s trip each way, she had to hold onto that thought. But then again, even a few hours was time enough for Cherri to take another bad turn and wind up passed out on a broken armchair. </p><p> </p><p>Two options—leave Cherri behind and find out something which would ultimately improve things, or stay behind and rely on scribbled notes for Witch knew how long. She had to take the first before the concern pulling on her chest became too strong. </p><p> </p><p>Newsie twisted the handle and wrenched the door open. The heat hit her like a crashing wave; it was only early afternoon, but the sun had been blazing down on the dry earth for a few hours at the least. </p><p> </p><p>The van waited patiently in the same spot it had been left eight days ago. Sunlight glanced off the scratched windows, invoking the vision of a child’s eyes glinting with mischief. It welcomed Newsie with the familiar scent of upholstery, gasoline, and sweat as she settled into the driver’s seat.  </p><p> </p><p>She reached up and clicked open a small compartment, from which she grabbed a pair of heart-shaped sunglasses. Newsie smiled a little as she slid them over her eyes, tinting the world dark purple.</p><p> </p><p>With a heavy clunk, she shifted the van into gear and pulled away from the station.</p><p> </p><p>The distance between Zones was never easy to judge. The same expanses of desert which had stretched on for half a day could take only a few hours to cross as you returned. </p><p> </p><p>Maybe it was the knowledge you were going home, making your way towards a crew with whom you could laugh about your sufferings and mishaps, or maybe there was something more ethereal at play. They say the Witch watches over the Zones from her roost, observant enough to glean the needs of each resident with a single glance. Maybe she knew when you needed another hour to think, to really clear your head. And maybe she could also tell when the day rested heavily on your shoulders, and all you really needed was a familiar face and a pair of welcoming arms. </p><p> </p><p>Perhaps the Witch decided that she had given all the fortune she could to the family, for Newsie’s journey stretched on unbearably into the evening. The sun dimmed to a glaring orange as it slid towards the dusty horizon. </p><p> </p><p>A small cuboid box grew larger as Newsie drove closer, revealing itself as a large wooden house, the  front apparently falling to pieces. On further inspection, however, it was clear that the planks which Newsie had taken to be broken parts of the building were instead a multitude of signs. A jumble of hand-painted and stolen, they created a homely mural beside the large windows of the house.</p><p> </p><p>Newsie pulled up beside the graffitied hatchback which lay in wait beside the house. The van thrummed and juddered to a stop beneath her feet as she turned the key and wrenched on the handbrake. She looked out at the signs and took a slow, cautious breath. </p><p> </p><p>A few signs stuck out in particular, but it took Newsie a few seconds to realize that they were written in code. The symbols weren’t anything like the ones which she, Cherri, and D used to write notes to each other, nor did they seem like the old texts which Jet would spend nights poring over, dim lamplight seeping under the crack beneath her door. </p><p> </p><p>Her nerves bundled together and muddled the signals of anxiety and anticipation in her brain. Each step was like trudging through quicksand. With every movement, Newsie’s heart beat a little faster and her breath quickened in her throat. </p><p> </p><p>The concern was irrational, so she told herself, but the shadow of the house still seemed to drain the sweltering heat of the evening.</p><p> </p><p>Her blood ran cold with the desert air as she realized her fear—raising a fist to knock on that teal door would solidify the events of the past week. The small bubble of faded reality in which she had lived would pop, leaving her with only the full truth of what she had done. </p><p> </p><p>Newsie wasn’t sure when or how she had ended up standing on the scratched doorstep.<br/>
She gritted her teeth, pushed her sunglasses onto her head, and raised one hesitant hand. Her sharp knock resonated throughout her skull, and distracted her from seeing the small movements in the large window to her left.</p><p> </p><p>The door creaked open, revealing a person with long, blue locs and a pale scar which ran from their chin to their nose.</p><p> </p><p>She opened the door further and gestured to a sign hanging to the left-</p><p> </p><p>“Welcome to Echo’s Location”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>This chapter's a little late but in my defense, I've had a lot to do this week. Hope you enjoyed.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Ease Up, Kid</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Newsie had been so caught up in Cherri's injuries that she had neglected the worries which had plagued her before.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It had been a long two weeks in the lobby, Chimp hadn’t meant to stay this long, she had only entered for a mission to gather information, not to get stuck in a one-bedroom apartment with three droids and a broke radio transmitter. The antennae had snapped when she was running from the patrol, and it wasn’t easy to find replacements when leaving the building could put your entire life in danger. </p><p> </p><p>There wasn’t much to be said for the dingy apartment. Chimp looked around at the dark walls, lit with coloured neon, and the droid sitting across the room. The three girls who had offered her shelter were nice and all, but they weren’t her family. She missed the busy thrum of the stations, D’s voice drifting out from the broadcasting room which he just refused to ever tidy. The clutter suited her though, he never noticed when a loose wire or unneeded nail went missing and became a part of one of her ‘projects.’ </p><p> </p><p>She missed Newsie. The long nights were now absent of their mindless conversation. Her laugh echoed in Chimp’s head, keeping her sane throughout the uneventful days stuck in this dank room. She couldn’t get Newsie out of her head, as much as she would refuse to ever admit it to Cherri or D. Witch, if she didn’t stop thinking like this she’d be taking over Cherri’s position as Sappy Poet #1 before long.</p><p> </p><p>Her chest ached for home, for the warm mattress in the living room, Cherri’s shitty poems and Ghoul’s awful jokes. She wanted to carry the girl on her shoulders around the diner and run until Jet told them to stop before something got broken. </p><p> </p><p>She had only meant to go through the lobby, talk to some people, get some insider information, and get out again. She had clearly failed.<br/>
The patrols had tracked her down. They must be getting better, or maybe she was just getting lazier with covering her tracks. Jet had been right after all, it just wasn’t safe. When had Chimp ever listened to the voice of reason, though? Maybe she’d have to try that sometime, might keep her from getting stuck in shitty places at shitty times. </p><p> </p><p>The City walls closed in on her, smiling painted eyes watching her from every side. She may not have had the same trauma associated with this place as so many other ‘Joys did, but it didn’t stop her skin from crawling every second she spent in the hellhole.  </p><p> </p><p>It wouldn’t be long now. Chimp’s satchel was clutched close to her chest, her boots propped up on the low table before her. Her head rested against the cool concrete wall behind her as she strained her ears for the sound of her freedom. If Green had got the message out, her chance would come up just about… now.</p><p> </p><p>Thank Witch for juvie halls. </p><p> </p><p>The explosion had been enough to draw attention away from the large concrete building in which Chimp was waiting, clutching the broken transmitter, praying to Destroya that the people she had spoken to could get the job done. She pumped a fist in the air and let out a yell of triumph. Green nodded at her and smiled. </p><p> </p><p>Chimp winked, then slammed open the door, half-tripped down a flight of stairs, and booked it into the streets. Clouds of smoke billowed up to the left, a remainder of the smoke bomb. She used the bustle of confusion to cover the sound of her feet slapping on the tarmac and sprinted full speed towards the city walls. She pushed through the neon alleyways until she reached the small tunnel leading out to the desert and quickly disappeared into the damp chamber. </p><p> </p><p>Sand rained into Chimp’s hair as she pushed open the heavy metal hatch. It shut with a loud clang behind her, and she put her arms out, welcoming the Zones back into her life.</p><p> </p><p>The heat was almost unbearable after two weeks in the climate-controlled City. Sweat began to trickle down the back of her neck, the ground shimmering with heat. She pulled out the handheld radio walkie talkie, clicking it on even though she knew the signal was useless this far out from the others. </p><p> </p><p>It didn’t matter now, she was out. </p><p> </p><p>~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~</p><p> </p><p>If the signs outside the house had been anything to go by, the inside was downright spacious. A few signs still dotted the walls, some written in that code which Newsie couldn’t decipher, no matter how hard she tried to find patterns. Not that she had much time to look, as Echo led her down a wide hallway to an uncommonly large living room. It was nothing like the station- almost all the furniture matched, an arrangement of soft armchairs and a large couch with the same pink and cream lining. It wasn’t until she sat down that Newsie realized the similarity could be attributed to the individually upholstered seat covers. Hand-stitching was evident along the edges of the chairs, thick thread and uneven stitches bunched close together. She cautiously sat on an armchair which didn't seem to have a back, and began chewing on her lip. Echo remained standing and gestured to a sign on the wall. </p><p> </p><p>“Drinks,” It read in the chipped block letters of a pre-war relic. Newsie looked over at Echo’s raised eyebrow and realized the purpose of the signs. They were intended for people just like her: those who couldn’t use their hands to communicate, but wanted to visit the residents of the comfortable house nonetheless. She smiled a little and nodded, then said ‘thank you,’ the words resonating in the large room. Echo nodded and put a hand to her chin, palm facing her neck, then moved it away. She mouthed the words ‘thank you,’ and smiled. Newsie copied them, a little unsure, but felt a small flutter of excitement in her stomach when Echo nodded and gave her a double thumbs-up. </p><p> </p><p>While seated on the soft chair, back straight and legs together, Newsie took advantage of the opportunity to glance around at the coded signs hanging up on the walls. She searched for patterns in their text and discovered some common letters, but quickly stopped, feeling as though she were prying into something to which she wasn’t supposed to be privy. It was so quiet, the usual chatter and broadcasting which perpetuated the Station completely absent. Newsie gazed around the room, growing more nervous by the second. The small trinkets laid in carved wooden bowls on the various dressers which lined the large room grabbed her wandering attention. She noted the handmade Bad Luck Beads and subconsciously rolled the bracelet on her wrist between her fingers. </p><p> </p><p>The rough wood and painted plastic hadn’t been more than five feet away from her since the day she had first put on the bracelet. From what she could see in her position perched in the middle of the room, the beads were in separate bowls- some carved and painted, some plain and waiting for their purpose to be given. How many ‘Joys must have given them beads to fill two bowls with hand-made symbols? It was best not to dwell on other peoples’ lives, especially when you didn’t know if the spirits in those beads were still running or gone with the Witch.</p><p> </p><p>Clumping boots on a wooden floor pulled Newsie from her reverie, and she looked up to see Echo walking into the room carrying two cups of something brown and bubbly. The drinks fizzed as she came closer and sat at a chair across from Newsie, placing the glasses down on a small table between them. They pulled a notepad from a drawer under the table and smiled. </p><p> </p><p>‘My name is Echo,’ they wrote on the pad, then looked at Newsie and slowly made some signs she didn’t recognize with their hands. She spoke as she did so, but not in a way Newsie had hear anyone speak before. They formed words which were distinguishable, but her vowels were rounded, the consonants slightly swallowed. </p><p> </p><p>She nodded, and wrote down on the paper “I’m Newsagogo, you can call me Newsie.” Echo read the page, then nodded and sat up straight again. She made six signs with her hand, then pointed at Newsie. She copied as best she could and smiled a little when Echo nodded and gave her another thumbs-up.</p><p> </p><p>They pulled the pad back towards them and wrote in neat handwriting, “D radioed. He didn’t give details, but I know the basics. What happened/what do you need?” </p><p> </p><p>Newsie but her lip and pulled the large pad of paper towards her. She held the pen with a shaky hand as she forced herself to recollect Cherri’s accident. What was she thinking? It hadn’t been a fucking accident, she had pulled the trigger, she had caused this mess. </p><p> </p><p>She began to write, slowly at first until her panic and memories took over and the words came pouring out along with them. She flipped to a new page and continued recounting the events, leaving in more detail than was perhaps necessary. Emotional energy was sapped from her head and heart just as the ink was sapped from the pen. Newsie didn’t realize that tears had formed in her eyes until one fell to the page and smudged the hurried words.</p><p> </p><p>She finished writing and set down the pen, turning the pad around for Echo to look over. They took their time, pushing teal locs back from her face as they fell in front of their eyes, and nodded once they had finished. She hesitated before taking one of Newsie’s trembling hands in her own and squeezing it gently. The small touch cleared her head a little, and the effect lingered even after they had pulled away.</p><p> </p><p>They took the pen from the table where Newsie had left it and looked over the story once more before adding their own thoughts to the page. “I can help. I can teach you what you need to know for basic communication, but you’ll need to come back a little more if you want to know more than just that.” Newsie nodded when Echo looked up at her expectantly and let out a caged breath. She lowered her head and picked up the pen from Echo’s hand. ‘Where do we start?’</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Most of this was written as part of the WKIL Word Crawl, and I have plans for these two in the following story. Hope you enjoyed!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Keep Your Promises</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Today only at the Market: Buy one tin of soup and get one missing Killjoy free!<br/>(Warnings: nightmares and brief blood mention)</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>It's a long one, sorry!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Maybe if the City run had taken as long as planned, Chimp’s bike would still have been leaning against the city wall, covered with a battered tarp. All that remained was an empty black sheet, the ghost of her only mode of transportation. She cursed loudly into the desert, her mood souring. Walking was no fun in this fucking eternal heatwave. Chimp kicked the tarp once for good measure and tucked the black portable transmitter under her arm.</p><p> </p><p>It was a long, thirsty walk to First Base. The small ‘afé’- as the sign read- was the first place Chimp had met Jet Star. It wasn’t much, just a rest stop for those returning or escaping from the city. Some angel kept it stocked with food, water, and blankets, though no one knew who.</p><p> </p><p>A small bell rang out as Chimp pushed open the heavy door and collapsed into one of the broken plastic chairs. Stress dissipated from her body like water spilled carelessly on the desert’s roads. Her legs ached from hours of trudging through sand, and her stomach growled in complaint.</p><p> </p><p>Chimp forced herself up from the chair with a groan. The shelves were dotted with tins, and she cracked open a can of Power Pup. The slimy meat was the best thing she had tasted for far too long; the can was gone in record time. She sat back down and brought one leg up to her chest, taking stock of the situation in her head.</p><p> </p><p>What did she have? What were her next steps? Was she safe? If not, how could she make herself safer?</p><p> </p><p>She had the recordings, even if she couldn’t broadcast them quite yet. The antenna- it wasn’t beyond saving, the trash lying around this place should be enough to fix it. There had to be some loose wire or something in here, right? No ‘Joy would leave an area without leaving some kind of clutter. The building was fairly safe- far enough from the City that it would take a day or two for them to find her without already knowing her location. The only guarantee of full safety was to get back home.</p><p> </p><p>She couldn’t let herself rest until she had completed the essential tasks. She rose from the chair once more and scoured the cupboards and the floor below the furniture until she found what she needed.</p><p> </p><p>A bent paperclip twisted out of shape, an old wire which curled at the ends, and a safety pin. Not particularly useful, but good to have. She worked her away around the hard casing of the transmitter until she had fashioned the antenna into something which looked like it had the potential to work. She fiddled with the dial at the front until a faint green ‘109’ came up on the small digital display.</p><p> </p><p>She smirked, “Bingo.” A little more fiddling allowed the microphone light to flash green, and Chimp leaned into the transmitter.</p><p> </p><p>“D this is Chimp, over.” She bit her lip, anticipation rising up through the exhaustion. A low, gravelly voice cut through the static.</p><p> </p><p>“Chimp this is D, I’m hearin’ ya loud an’ clear, over.”</p><p> </p><p>She smiled wider than she had for a long time.</p><p> </p><p>D‘s voice filled her with the sense of home, a welcome concoction of familiarity and relief. The urge to make meaningless conversation, catching up on the last two weeks was quashed by the issue at hand.</p><p> </p><p>“D, I’m out in First Base. Some fucker took my bike an’ I need a way back to the station. Think y’ can help at all? Over.” She heard D smile on the other end before he replied.</p><p> </p><p>“Newsagogo’s out right now, I can see if she can pick y’ up from the Market? It’s out in Zone Two tomorrow, think y’ can hold out ‘til then? Over.” Chimp grinned, her face going a little pink at the thought of seeing Newsie again.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, I can do that, D. Can y’ send someone out to take me over there for the time bein’?” D nodded on the other end of the line, and clicked the radio over to a different frequency.</p><p> </p><p>Maybe it would have been easier to get Chimp right back to the station, but the trip would be a long ride for any joy both ways, and there was no way he was allowing Cherri or Kobra out of the station at this moment. Besides, her and Newsie had been tiptoeing around each other for what felt like eons. It wasn’t like the rest of the crew hadn’t tried to get a confession out of them, but denial ran strong through each of their heads.</p><hr/><p>Newsie sat on the bed and removed her boots slowly, shaking out the small bits of sand which had crept their way in. She slowly pulled off her jacket and folded it over her arms, holding it close to her chest. She buried her face in the warm leather and drew her arms tighter around her body. Despite spending many nights in a room by herself with nothing for company except the pale moonlight, Newsie hadn’t felt this alone for some time.</p><p> </p><p>She looked up at the ceiling, barely visible in the faint light which the night sky provided, and let her mind wander. Her thoughts turned to Chimp.</p><p> </p><p>They hadn’t heard from her for weeks, but she had barely even crossed Newsie’s mind since the accident with Cherri; so caught up in her own worries and guilt that she hadn’t even bothered to check whether any news had come through. Guilt radiated through her thoughts—she had never been silent for so long before, and only now did Newsie truly begin to realize the potential severity of the situation.</p><p> </p><p>What if she was gone? What if she’d been taken, destroyed by the City? Would the alternative be worse? Newsie couldn’t even bring herself to consider that she could be held in City limits, her bright life being erased for what few shreds of information the Crows could extract from her zipped lips.</p><p> </p><p>Her dreams that night were a mix of smiling black and white faces and dark concrete rooms lit with buzzing fluorescent bulbs. Pink and blonde hair faded to brown like a leaf dying in the City’s artificial winter. A defiant smile flickered, dark purple bruises blossoming over skin made whiter by harsh lights. Details blurred together, marring the line between screams and laughter. Whispered words echoed through her mind, distorted and warped as they moved quickly from the distance to right behind her back.</p><p> </p><p>A scream cut through the voices as thick red liquid dripped across her vision. Newsie woke with a start to realize that the screaming had been her own. She glanced around the room in a panic—the walls weren’t her own, the small gifts she had were absent from the bedside table. As reason came back to her mind, Newsie began to remember where she was. Discomfort settled into her stomach even as the visions of her nightmare faded from before her eyes.</p><p> </p><p>She flopped back down into the bed, tears forming in the corners of her eyes. She squeezed her eyes closed and hugged the blanket to her chest in a bundle. Cherri wasn’t in the other room, she couldn’t go in and sit with him, silent understanding passed between them. There was no D to confide in, nor even Pony with the tin of hot chocolate they kept hidden somewhere in the station.</p><p> </p><p>The past two weeks had been too much for her brain. The Witch wouldn’t let her live without tragedy for a few fucking days. First Chimp, then Cherri. At least she knew one of them was still breathing.</p><p> </p><p>She turned onto her side and clutched the bundled blanket closer, staring at the wall in front of her. All details escaped her, melding together into a shadowed blur and leaving her with only her writhing thoughts.</p><p> </p><p>Her throat was raw, her head still throbbing, but the nightmare began to disappear from her mind as quickly as it had come.</p><p> </p><p>Chimp was okay, she had to be. She would be. Newsie couldn't let herself consider any other possibility, not after the events of the past few weeks.</p><p> </p><hr/><p>The roar of an engine distracted Chimp from carving the packed sand out from the grooves in her boots, and she looked out of the dusty windows to see a familiar car. The person who climbed out the driver’s side had a grin the size of the Zones spread across her face. Her curly hair rushed back from her head as she ran towards the dirty doors.</p><p> </p><p>“Jet!” Chimp called from inside, breaking into a grin. The door swung open with the chime of a bell. She ran forwards and accepted Jet’s open invitation for a well-needed hug. She wrapped her arms around her friend, and they rocked back and forth on the grimy floors.</p><p> </p><p>“Are you okay? , you piece of shit!” Jet said, tears forming in the corner of her eyes, as she pushed Chimp away and held her by the shoulders. Chimp nodded, her face aching already from her smile.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, I’m shiny. It was harder than expected to get out, as it turns out, Y’know?”</p><p> </p><p>Jet nodded.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, I know,” She mumbled, and leaned against the service counter at the back of the room. “You have any stuff you need taking back? I can drop it off at the Diner if needs be.”</p><p> </p><p>Chimp nodded, then indicated towards the small transmitter lying on the table behind her</p><p> </p><p>“Just this, yeah.” She picked it up and turned it over in her hands. “Piece of shit broke while I was runnin’ away and left me stranded in the lobby with a few droids. Never really chatted with droids much before but they’re real fuckin’ nice, y’know?”</p><p> </p><p>Jet shrugged.</p><p> </p><p>“Can’t say I’ve met many, but I’ll take your word for it.” Chimp chuckled; casual conversation with someone she knew was a luxury she hadn’t had access to for far too long.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s good to see you, really” she said in the silence which followed, looking up at her friend.</p><p> </p><p>“Good to see you too, and in one piece as well!”</p><p> </p><p>Chimp laughed dryly.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, I know. Almost thought I wouldn’t be for a sec. Seemed like they were gonna blank me.”</p><p> </p><p>Jet’s smile faded to more of a grimace than anything. Guilt panged in Chimp’s stomach, cutting through the excitement of seeing her friend again.</p><p> </p><p>“’M sorry Jet, really. Didn’ mean to leave you all for so long.” Jet nodded.</p><p> </p><p>“I know.” She sighed and ran an ink-stained hand through her hair. “I know you didn’t mean to, I just thought for a minute that you’d gone the same way as- y’know.” She shook her head and smiled, “Anyway, it’s good to have you back.”</p><p> </p><p>Chimp’s face broke into a grin once more, “Good to be back.”</p><p> </p><p>“Heard you need a ride to the Market, apparently there’s a certain someone heading back to the Station this evening…”</p><p> </p><p>“You shut the fuck up, Jet Star.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh come on, Chimp.”</p><p> </p><p>“’S not gonna happen! She doesn’ even like me that way. She’s jus’ my friend.”</p><p> </p><p>“Mhm. Whatever you say. Come on, I’ll take you to meet your date.”</p><p> </p><p>“She’s not my date!”</p><p> </p><p>“Sure.”</p><p> </p><hr/><p>Echo pulled out the pile of notes which her and Newsie had worked on the previous night, now bound loosely in their own folder made of paper from the pad they had used to communicate.</p><p> </p><p>“Thank you,” Newsie signed. Echo nodded and pointed to the sheet at the front of the booklet. It was done in her writing and drawing, rather than Newsie’s, and contained the finger spelling for her friends and family’s names. She pulled over the page to show a second page of names, this time containing the Fab four and Echo herself.</p><p> </p><p>Newsie smiled, it would be a long time until this felt natural, but it was a start. Her brain blanked, all the signs she and Echo had written out last night escaping her focus and drifting off into the abyss. She nodded and signed ‘thank you’ again, to which Echo chuckled.</p><p> </p><p>‘No problem,’ they signed slowly enough that Newsie could identify the words. As though on cue, a crackle came over the small radio hanging from her belt loops. She unhooked it and held it up to show Echo, who nodded and moved to put away the large book of signs.</p><p> </p><p>Newsie’s tired brain began to whirr, unsure of the news which would be delivered over the line.</p><p> </p><p>“Heya Newsie, how’s it goin’ over there?” D’s casual tone erased the fears Newsie had begun to consider.</p><p> </p><p>“All shiny D, ‘bout to head back over to where y’all are.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, about that News- could y’ stop by th’ market on the way back? Since we ain’t been out for a bit we’re runnin’ a little low. Not much we need, but it’s on your way an’ it’d be a big help.” Newsie nodded, her journey would only be delayed by about an hour, eager as she was to get back home.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah I can do that, what ‘ya needing?” D began to read off a list, just the basics- some more food, a new bottle if someone had something, spare cables for the wire in the mixer which never seemed to work for more than a few weeks, and something a little more peculiar.</p><p> </p><p>“Fuck are Monkey nuts, D?”</p><p> </p><p>He laughed on the other end of the line, “You’ll know ‘em when you see ‘em.”</p><p> </p><p>Newsie nodded, “Sure. I’ll see y’all back at the station in t minus four.”</p><p> </p><p>“Drive safe, News.” The static from the other end fell silent, and Newsie turned away from the bay windows to the open room. She picked up the pad of paper lying on the table and wrote out a note to Echo, thanking them for allowing her to stay.</p><p> </p><p>After a quick drink, the two stood on the doorstep and said their goodbyes. Newsie’s fingers curled tightly around the sheaf of notes tucked under her arm as though the nonexistent wind would tear the pages away from her if she let go. The door creaked closed behind her, the noise reminding her that she would spend the next four hours alone with her thoughts.</p><p> </p><p>The silence of the van was deafening. While there had been no verbal conversation at Echo’s, there had still been the sounds of a house as it settled and allowed the people walking through it to creak on its floorboards and open its doors, but here there was nothing. No clicks from the engine as it cooled, no inconsequential chatter or clicking of seatbelts. It was just her, the papers, and the responsibility resting on her shoulders to fix what she had done. Fix maybe wasn’t the right word- it wasn’t a broken cup or a busted antenna, it was just how things were now. There was no mending the situation, only adapting to what their life had become.</p><p> </p><p>She tucked the papers into the glovebox with a sigh and shifted the engine into gear. D’s music carried her through the Zones, too much space to think out there without it. His voice was a distraction, even if she didn’t register a good many of the words he said. It didn’t matter, she just needed to feel like there was someone there.</p><p> </p><p>The time seemed to pass more quickly than it had when she had made the drive out, thank the Witch. The sight of the Market with its bustling colours and sounds of people bartering, chatting, and catching up with old friends was a welcome relief. Newsie slowed as it came into view, wary of the kids who didn’t have the awareness to not run full pelt across the road while the people looking after them searched for what they needed.</p><p> </p><p>She grinned as she saw a kid with bright purple hair and a jacket which draped past their fingertips dancing on the side of the road, hair swinging wildly back and forth. The music from the Market permeated the thick metal sides of the van, and Newsie turned down the radio.</p><p> </p><p>She waved when the kid saw her driving down, and nodded her head a few times, not quite having the same effect as her hair was gathered in two low pigtails. She laughed and pulled up to the side of the road behind a few other graffitied cars, all lying in wait for the ride back home.</p><p> </p><hr/><p>Chimp rocked back and forth on the balls of her feet, subtly glancing around at the bodies bustling through the market in a search for the familiar blue and brown hair she had been waiting for. Jet had left only about half an hour ago, but Chimp’s stomach was still filled with a concoction of nerves and excitement.</p><p> </p><p>She didn’t often get nervous, but when faced with the possibility of seeing Newsie again her heart raced and her stomach turned over. She would never let it show, she was DJ Hot Chimp, the cool, laid back DJ people could rely on for insider news of the City and its inhabitants. She didn’t get flustered about a girl with short hair and a jacket which was just a little too small, so she couldn’t zip it closed when the nights got cold. A girl with a laugh that rang out across any room and seemed to bring even more light in through the windows. She’d never been known to fall for anyone.</p><p> </p><p>She wandered around the stalls as nonchalantly as possible, stopping before a large table filled with a variety of handmade patches and buttons. She picked one up, a bright green headphone set embroidered on thick black denim. She turned it over in her hand to check the back for loose stitches, then up to the Joy running the stand.</p><p> </p><p>“How much?” she asked, her face set into a casual smile. The shopkeeper looked down at the patch, then back up at Chimp.</p><p> </p><p>”Three carbons.” Chimp nodded and handed over the carbons, flipping the patch over and over between her fingers.</p><p> </p><p>The chugging grumble of the van’s idling engine drew her attention before she had even realized that her heart was speeding up. Chimp looked over the crowd to see Newsie fiddling with something in the glovebox. Excitement swelled in her chest, and she couldn’t contain the smile which crept up onto her face, pulling the sides of her mouth into an uncharacteristic grin. She held back from running towards the van, her gift clutched in her hands as Newsie opened the door and stepped out.</p><p> </p><p>Chimp stayed leaned against a lone concrete wall beside a stand laid with bashed up tins of food. She ran a hand through her hair, determined to make a good impression after essentially vanishing for two weeks. She took a shaky breath and tried to force her smile down into something a little more expected of her reputation.<br/>Newsie’s form flickered in and out of view as others walked in front to her and blocked Chimps’ line of sight. Every time she caught a glimpse of Newsie, she was looking away from her, frustratingly focused on the stalls. She was getting closer, wandering around each stall and running her hands over the various objects. Chimp strained to look over and see her face, but to no avail.</p><p> </p><p>She tapped her fingers against the stone wall impatiently as she waited for Newsie to reach her. The colours and noises of the market were undeniably loud, but Newsie still stuck out bright and clear in Chimp’s vision. She finally reached the stall beside Chimp, and she cleared her throat, desperately trying to look unbothered despite the grin which was quickly spreading on her face.</p><p> </p><p>Her heart leapt to her throat when Newsie turned to look at her in disbelief. Her mind went numb, and she blurted out the only words in her head,</p><p> </p><p>“I’m sorry.” Newsie stared at her gape mouthed. She held out her arms, a tin of soup clattering to the ground. She raised an eyebrow in question and Chimp nodded. Newsie rushed forwards and threw her arms around Chimp’s neck, careful not to touch any exposed skin. Chimp held onto Newsie- the patch still clutched in her fist. Her heart pounded so hard she was certain Newsie could hear it, but she didn’t care. It felt so right just to stand there and revel in the overwhelming feeling of home all around her.</p><p> </p><p>It was real, she just had to keep telling herself that. The City was far behind, Newsie was here, everyone was okay. She was conscious of the eyes which glanced over, but the faces were far from sullen. It wasn’t rare to see crew members reuniting after a long run, a trip away, or something much more drastic.</p><p> </p><p>“Don’t you ever fuckin’ do that again.” She hadn’t realized just how much she missed Newsie’s voice.</p><p> </p><p>Chimp laughed, “You don’t need t’ worry about that.”</p><p> </p><p>“Good.” Newsie smiled and pulled away, looking up at Chimp with tired relief. “I mean it, you ever vanish like that again an’ I’ll kill you myself.”</p><p> </p><p>Chimp grinned a little more than she would have liked.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, I know. I’m okay News, promise.”</p><p> </p><p>She looked Newsie in the eyes for a moment, biting back the smile which threatened to take over once more. She wracked her thoughts for an excuse to look away, and her mind jumped to the patch in her hand. She held it out with two fingers, as casually as possible.</p><p> </p><p>“Saw this and it uh, reminded me of you. Thought it would look good on your jacket. Also kind of an apology, I guess. Y’know, for not reachin’ out and all.”<br/>Newsie smiled as she took the patch and tucked it into her pocket.</p><p> </p><p>“Thanks.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, no problem.”</p><p> </p><p>The two looked at each other for a moment, electricity buzzing between them until Newsie crouched down to pick up the fallen soup, her face flushing a dark pink.<br/>She cursed herself for… For what, exactly? Allowing herself to blush? It wasn’t exactly something she could control, but she reprimanded herself anyway. She stood up and prayed that the colour had lessened in its intensity.</p><p> </p><p>“D wanted me to get some stuff for the Station, so I gotta grab all that ‘n then we can head back. That shiny?”</p><p> </p><p>Chimp nodded, pushing her bleach blonde hair back from her face. She followed Newsie around the stalls, taking some of the tins from her when they became too much to handle.</p><p> </p><p>“You couldn’t have brought a bag?” She asked, keeping a stack of objects together with her chin.</p><p> </p><p>“Didn’ know I was going to th’ Market!”</p><p> </p><p>“Thought I put a bag in the van before I left.”</p><p> </p><p>“Chimp that was two fuckin’ weeks ago, shit moves around.”</p><p> </p><p>She imitated Newsie from behind her, mouthing the words as she said them.</p><p> </p><p>“I can feel you mockin’ me.”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m not mockin’ anyone! I’m just walkin’ here, carrying eight fuckin’ tins of canned soup an’ dog food.”</p><p> </p><p>“Sure,” Newsie laughed. “C’mon, let’s get home. ‘S been a long fuckin’ trip.”</p><p> </p><p>Chimp noted the underlying exhaustion in Newsie’s voice.</p><p> </p><p>“Y’okay News?”</p><p> </p><p>She shook her head slowly, her smile fading slightly as the question was asked.</p><p> </p><p>“I’ll tell y’ on the way back to the’ station, yeah? D’s gonna want to see your idiot face.” She smiled again, and Chimp swallowed the butterflies rising up in her throat.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah. Sounds good.” She looked over at the van, its graffitied outside and janky antenna a welcome reminder of the home she missed so much. Her chest ached with the longing to get back, to chat with Cherri and hear D when he broadcasted.</p><p> </p><p>She could make sure no one had bent the mug cactus out of shape, worry about the little things which were misplaced instead of a target looming over her head like it had in the City.</p><p> </p><p>She smiled, and Newsie looked over.</p><p> </p><p>“What?” she asked, also beginning to smile.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s gonna be so fucking good to get home.”</p><p> </p><p>Newsie nodded.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah. Look, a lot happened while you were gone, I’d better tell you before we get into the small shit, y’know.” Chimp nodded, concern beginning to cloud her good mood.</p><p> </p><p>“Everything shiny?” Newsie bit her lip again and looked over.</p><p> </p><p>“I- fuck. I messed up, Chimp. That’s why I’m out here, pickin’ your reckless ass up.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Hope you enjoyed this chapter, sorry it was so long!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Signs of the Times</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Newsie was right- Cherri looked like shit.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Warning for injury/blood mention<br/>(and dumb lesbians.)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>They both ignored the dark stain which hadn’t come out of the passenger seat. Chimp sat forwards a little, not entirely comfortable with having her shoulder against it now that the van lay silent, Newsie’s story concluded. The only sound came from the humming engine and the small clang of Newsie’s zipper as it bumped against the edge of her seat. She fixed her concentration on the road ahead and began to chew on her lip.</p><p> </p><p>“Is everyone okay?” Chimp’s voice was soft as she broke her silence.  </p><p> </p><p>“Yeah,” Newsie sighed. “Yeah. Cherri’s up and around again, little bit dizzy but other ‘n that he’s been good.”</p><p> </p><p>“You didn’t do anything you shouldn’t have News,” Chimp looked over at her, the thoughts Newsie couldn’t form into words ruminating throughout the van. She adjusted her grip on the wheel but didn’t turn to look at Chimp.</p><p> </p><p>"I know. that’s what everyone keeps tellin’ me, but I nearly killed him Chimp. I know, I know I shouldn’t blame myself and I know that it’s just guilt but I can’t stop thinkin’ about what could have happened.”</p><p> </p><p>Chimp put her head in her hands, the seatbelt pulling her shoulder back.</p><p> </p><p>“What could’ve happened is that you didn’ do anything and Cherri woulda wound up dead, News. You saved his life. No matter what else happened.”</p><p> </p><p>“I guess.” She muttered, looking out over the sand as it rushed past. “You’re right, I just—It’s been one hell of a fortnight, you know.”</p><p> </p><p>Chimp felt the familiar twinge in her chest which came with the knowledge that she had let someone down</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah. I’m sorry News, really.” Newsie shook her head and pushed her hair back; the heat from the sun was pervading the car and they still hadn’t fixed the AC. That was something much more in Chimp’s realm of abilities.</p><p> </p><p>“You don’ need to apologize. It’s enough just to see your face again.” Newsie looked over and Chimp winked. She rolled her eyes with a small smile and looked back towards the road. “You wanna tell me what happened in there?”</p><p> </p><p>Chimp sat back in the passenger seat and let out a breath. She was glad to have someone to talk to who understood, she knew that, but reliving the experience felt like trying to fix an engine that didn’t even have any pistons. <em>Stick to the facts</em>, she told herself, no point putting yourself back there when you don’t need to.</p><p> </p><p>“I couldn’t leave the building after the second day. You know when I sent the last transmission?”</p><p> </p><p>Newsie nodded and turned onto a smaller, bumpier road.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, well they tracked the damn thing. Fuckin wish they hadn’t, it was a whole fuckin’ ordeal to get in and being stuck there wasn’t my first choice. But yeah I was runnin’ out ‘cause they sent squad of No-Shows after the signal and the antenna busted because I was hiding it close to me and I hadn’t pushed the damn thing in far enough.” She recounted the events quickly, trying to form a timeline in her head.</p><p> </p><p>“So I couldn’t talk to y’all, but there’s this place where a lot of Droids hang out, so I just stayed there long as I could until there was a patrol. They knew I wasn’t supposed to be there—the Droids, that is—they knew, and so a few of ‘em put me up in their apartment. There were three of em there, all real fuckin’ nice but they weren’t in much. City’s fucked, News. The whole system with the Droids ‘n all, it’s just sick.”  </p><p> </p><p>“You get any good shit out of it?” Newsie kept her gaze straight ahead as Chimp brought one leg up onto the seat.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah. Spoke to some of the Girls there, thought I’d get their side of the whole situation. They don’t get to say what they want in the City so the best I can do is spread their voices out here.”</p><p> </p><p>“It’ll be good to know you’re home. Feels like so long since you first arrived.” Chimp nodded, her thoughts drifting to her life before the radio crew. “You scared us all shitless, showin’ up like you did.”</p><p> </p><p>Chimp smiled vacantly, receding back into her memory. “Yeah…”</p><p> </p><p>Newsie looked over, taking her eyes off the road.</p><p> </p><p>“You good Chimp?”</p><p> </p><p>“Hm?” She nodded and blinked to clear her vision. “Yeah jus’ thinking is all.”</p><p> </p><p>Newsie poked the armrest beside Chimp’s arm. “I’m right here, you know that. Always will be.”</p><p> </p><p>Chimp hummed in response and the van lapsed into silence. Now that home was so close, the minutes seemed to stretch out into days, time elongating like melted rubber until the Station came into view.</p><p> </p><p>The engine thrummed as Newsie pulled up on the sand and sat back in her seat. She had only been gone for two days, but so much had happened that it seemed like weeks.</p><p> </p><p>“I know it’s not under the best of circumstances, but it’s really good to have you back.”  </p><p> </p><p>“Good to be back, NewsAGogo.”</p><p> </p><p>The way her name sounded on her lips was so whole, so complete that Newsie felt like it was almost a completely different name. She cleared her throat, realizing that she had been staring, and turned off the engine. The van shuddered to a stop and a few tins rolled around, having fallen off the back seat during the two-hour drive.</p><p> </p><p>“I’ll get ‘em,” Chimp offered, pushing open her door and hopping out of the van. She slid open the side door and grabbed the cans, meeting Newsie in front of the van.</p><p> </p><p>“Will you please let me take some in?” she said, looking down at Chimp’s arms laden with tins and a small plastic bag.</p><p> </p><p>“I’ve got it, don’t worry,” She insisted as a tin fell from her arms and landed with a soft thunk in the sand. Newsie rolled her eyes and picked up the tin.</p><p> </p><p>“C’mon, Kobra’s in there too.” She nodded towards the door. Chimp followed behind her, glad to be taking the familiar steps towards the entrance of her part-time home. As Newsie pushed open the door, she was hit with the familiar smells of dirt, duct tape, and whatever kind of weird shit D kept down in the cupboards. She couldn’t help but grin as she stepped through the front door into the Station.</p><p> </p><p>Cherri was visible through the open door to the living room, sat on the couch with his notepad out, Kobra reading over his shoulder.</p><p> </p><p>Newsie hadn’t been exaggerating, he looked awful. The side of his face was waxen and red, tinged with yellow. And that was just what she could see outside the bandage over his left ear which stretched up to the side of his head.</p><p> </p><p>Kobra looked up at the sound of the door swinging shut and nudged him in the side. Cherri followed his gaze and jumped up from the couch. He rushed down the corridor, followed closely by Kobra.</p><p> </p><p>“Welcome home, dumbass.” He smirked, speaking more loudly than she remembered.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, didn’t miss you all that much to be honest, Cherri,” she quipped back. “You know where D wants these?” Cherri didn’t get a moment to try and figure out what Chimp had said as a deep voice came from the hallway behind him.</p><p> </p><p>“Took you long enough!” D wheeled into view. “Damn it’s good to see your face, Hot Chimp.”</p><p> </p><p>“Good to see you too D, I missed your dronin’ out in The City. Nothin’ really sent me to sleep the same as your dulcet tones.”</p><p> </p><p>He laughed deep in his chest and shook his head.</p><p> </p><p>“Come on in the other room, we all need to catch up.” Chimp nodded and attempted to toss away the hair falling into her face, but to no avail. She looked over a Cherri, Kobra, and Newsie and it finally solidified in her head that she was home.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>When the tins were stacked in the kitchen shelves and her boots lay neatly beside the doorway, Chimp was finally able to sit back on the couch and rest her feet on the lower rungs of Cherri’s stool. It was more comfortable than anything she had ever felt before, despite the missing stuffing and the pillows which really could have done with a wash. It was the overwhelming feeling of being at peace again, surrounded by the people she loved and cared for the most. People who cared about her just the same: a feeling she was still getting used to, even after four years.</p><p> </p><p>“Newsie caught me up in the van, so I know most of the situation here.” She said, nodding towards Cherri with her hands behind her head.</p><p> </p><p>“Clearly not well enough,” Newsie quipped from the table, picking up the notepad and hurling it over at Chimp, hitting her in the stomach. Kobra sniggered as she sat up into a position more suited to writing.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah okay Newsie,” she said, making a face at her friend. “Sorry,” she said to Cherri, exaggerating the word with her mouth.</p><p> </p><p>He shook his head, “No problem. It was kinda funny to see with no context.” Hearing him speak a second time, he was definitely louder than she had remembered, though she assumed it was just a side effect of the whole ‘not being able to hear shit because Newsie almost shot him in the head with a ray gun’ thing.</p><p> </p><p>“How’s about we get to your visit first, News? Might make it easier for when we all hear Chimp’s excuses for being so damn late getting’ home.” D looked over at Chimp with false irritation and a poorly hidden smile.</p><p> </p><p>“Alright.”</p><p> </p><p>Chimp scribbled a quick summary in the pad and held it up for Cherri to read. He gave her a thumbs up and slid off the stool to join Newsie, D, and Kobra at the table. Chimp followed suit, her legs aching as she pushed herself off the couch. Newsie reached into the satchel at her side and pulled out a sheaf of papers, all written on the thin white paper of a large notepad. They were covered in crude drawings of hands in various shapes, some with arrows leading from the fingers and palms, some with small notes written in the margins with the neatest handwriting Chimp had ever seen.</p><p> </p><p> “Okay, I jus’ wanna say that this won’t be the easiest thing we’ve ever done by a long shot. It’s a whole new language an’ I don’t have every word in here, jus’ the ones we need to talk around the place.” D nodded, and Chimp assumed her new role as scribe, writing down a simplified version of Newsie’s words for Cherri to read.</p><p> </p><p>“Basically, there’s a sign for every letter of the alphabet, and one for pretty much every word you could think of. Names you spell with the letters but almost everything else is just a separate sign.” The others nodded attentively, and Chimp craned her neck to try and get a better look at the papers. Her name was third on the front page, accompanied by five hand signals. Cherri’s was above it, and Newsie’s sat at the top written in that pristine handwriting.</p><p> </p><p>Newsie hesitated, her fingers playing on the edges of the thin ream of paper. This wasn’t her usual gig, teaching wasn’t her strong suit by a long shot.</p><p> </p><p>“Okay, jus’ before anything else, I’ll show you th’ alphabet. Feel like that’s a pretty good place to start. Then if we don’t know the sign for somethin’ we can jus’ spell it.” She had no idea what she was doing, and it was the least she could do to appear decisive. She didn’t how to teach people a language and she knew it, but Witch knew she would try.</p><p> </p><p>She flipped a few pages into the stack to reveal twenty-six individual signs, each with a letter of the alphabet written clearly below them.</p><p> </p><p>“How do you wanna do this?” She looked out over the table, meeting Cherri’s eyes once he had looked up from Chimp’s transcription.</p><p> </p><p>“You could sign it and we could jus’… See how it’s done?” he suggested. Chimp just sat there like a lemon, with no clue what to do or say. It wasn’t exactly an everyday situation.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, okay.” Newsie said, feeling the pressure riding on her to get this right. She looked down at the page and cleared her throat. She went through each letter, checking her notes from time to time to make sure that she was forming them correctly. Not a sound left anyone’s lips but Newsie’s as she said the letters she was signing until she was done.</p><p> </p><p>“So yeah, that’s the alphabet.” She concluded awkwardly with a small glance up at the table. The others all nodded except Kobra. Chimp looked over—the sunglasses over his eyes were so dark she wasn’t sure if he was thinking or just asleep. Her unspoken question was answered when he sat up and spoke.</p><p> </p><p>“How many words you got in there?” Newsie thumbed through a few of the pages,</p><p> </p><p>“No sure. Enough for us to work with until we head back out there. Echo said we should try and get these down before we learned any others, else things get mixed up and boom, we make a new dialect for them to document.”</p><p> </p><p>Kobra nodded. “You think I could take a look at ‘em tonight?”</p><p> </p><p>Newsie shrugged, “I mean, yeah, that’s what they’re here for.”</p><p> </p><p>Cherri nudged Chimp in the arm with one eyebrow raised.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh shit, yeah sorry Cherri.” She turned to the paper and wrote the basics of Newsie and Kobra’s exchange in a quick scribble.</p><p> </p><p>“Your writing’s shit, Chimp.” He said, and she made a face.</p><p> </p><p>‘You need me to write neater?’ she wrote in her best writing, which wasn’t that much better than her standard scrawl.</p><p> </p><p>Cherri shook his head, “Nah, I’m used to readin’ Kobra’s.”</p><p> </p><p>“Hey!” Kobra retorted from beside him, but Cherri raised an eyebrow and he sat back in his chair. “Jus’ ‘cause you’re right doesn’t mean it’s nice.”</p><p> </p><p>Chimp snorted and wrote down the response. Cherri read it and blew a kiss to Kobra, which he pretended to catch and throw on the floor, much to the other’s amusement.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>The telling of Chimp’s story was a long one, interspersed with the sounds of flipping pages and a pen which only half worked, all while attempting to form a coherent sentence. It was a struggle to keep the words in her head while she looked down at the pages laid out on the table in a large array and attempted to sign the words she said, then waited for Cherri to find the page and determine the sign, then write down the words they didn’t have while still speaking out loud for the others and herself. It was mentally exhausting, but the feeling of satisfaction which washed over the whole table when she was done was palpable.</p><p> </p><p>“Shit, Chimp.” Kobra pushed his sunglasses up his nose.</p><p> </p><p>“Shit indeed.” She assumed her usual seating position, exhausting beginning to seep into her bones.</p><p> </p><p>“Well, I think that was a decent test run of what we’re gonna have to learn.” Newsie said, leaning back in her chair so the feet lifted off the floor.</p><p> </p><p>“Mhm. It’s gonna take some getting’ used to, but we’ll get there, don’t y’all worry.” D looked out at the four of them, Chimp with her chin resting on her knee, one foot up on the chair while the other bounced on the ground. Kobra had abandoned any semblance of sitting on a chair normally halfway through the story and had turned it around. He now sat cross legged with his head resting on the backrest, one hand preventing the wood from digging into his chin, the other loosely holding Cherri’s.</p><p> </p><p>A dark red glow was radiating through the diner, the only light other than the setting sun coming from the lamp which lay in the center of the table, casting light across all Newsie’s hand drawn notes.</p><p> </p><p>“’S been a long day for all of us. I know I need a good night’s sleep as much as the rest of you, so I’m gonna head to bed. I’d suggest y’all do the same. ‘Specially you Chimp.” D pulled away from the table to a mumbled chorus of “Night, D,” and a sleepy “Sweet Dreams!” from Chimp in a sickly tone.</p><p> </p><p>The adrenaline which had coursed through her veins from the escape to the journey home, and then again when re-telling her story was beginning to drain away, sapped by the warmth of her home, and her eyelids began to droop.</p><p> </p><p>“’M gonna go t’ sleep.” She mumbled, her eyes already closed.</p><p> </p><p>“Here?” Newsie asked with a small smile. Chimp nodded sleepily, “Yeah. Right here. An’ I’m not gonna wake up until the sun burns off my eyelids.” Newsie looked over at Kobra in amusement, but he just shrugged and sat up. He scribbled a note on the pad which was now covered in writing and cartoonish drawings of Chimp running from a large Better Living symbol. He gestured towards the sheets of paper lying on the table.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m gonna take a few of these into the room, if that’s alright with you?” Newsie nodded, but Cherri poked him in the arm.</p><p> </p><p>“No you’re not, you’re gonna get some damn sleep. I’ve seen you without those glasses, you’ve got fuckin’ bodybags under your eyes.” Kobra made a face but gave in with little resistance—he would kill for a good night’s sleep, much as he hated to admit it.</p><p> </p><p>“Okay darling,” he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.</p><p> </p><p>“Asshole.”</p><p> </p><p>“Love you,” Kobra signed, and held out his hand for Cherri to take once more. He accepted it, and Kobra helped him out of the chair. Cherri reached out and clutched onto his shoulder as the world spun around him. It was to be expected; even D didn’t know if it would ever stop, but for now he would just have to deal with it. He slung his arm around Kobra’s shoulder and waved goodnight to Newsie and Chimp, who responded with noncommittal nods and waves of their own. Newsie was lounged back in the chair, staring up at the ceiling mindlessly.</p><p> </p><p>“You gonna sleep out here?” She asked, and Chimp jolted out of her semi-sleep.</p><p> </p><p>“Huh?”</p><p> </p><p>“I said you gonna sleep out here?”</p><p> </p><p>“Mm, yeah. Always have.” Chimp’s eyes stayed closed, but she shot a half-hearted thumbs-up in Newsie’s direction. She rocked the front legs of her chair back onto the ground and looked over at Chimp.</p><p> </p><p>“Your bed’s got some of my shit on it, I can move it if you want.” Chimp hummed in response.</p><p> </p><p>“Only if It’ll stab me in the back when I’m sleepin’.” She opened one eye and looked over at Newsie. “Y’know Cherri left a pen in there once after it fell off the table an’ when I was sleepin’ I rolled over and the damn thing stabbed me.” Newsie nodded slowly, unsure of how to respond to the unprompted anecdote.</p><p> </p><p>“I was mortally wounded.” Chimp closed her eye again and settled into position on the chair.</p><p> </p><p>“Sure you were.” Newsie couldn’t help but smile at her calm face- the flecks of makeup still present from the day she left, small scars whose origins she would know some day, a light scratch on her chin from a tin of soup, of all things.</p><p> </p><p>“Go to bed Chimp, you can’t sleep here all night.”</p><p> </p><p>“Make me,” Chimp muttered, and Newsie’s stomach flipped.</p><p> </p><p>“’M not carryin’ you to bed, you’d hate it and you know it.”</p><p> </p><p>Chimp groaned and stretched, squeezing both eyes shut before blinking them open again.</p><p> </p><p>“Ah, you know me too well.” She pushed her chair away from the table, grating against the wooden floor and sending a chill down Newsie’s spine. She stood up a little too quickly, grabbing onto the chair for support. Newsie followed suit, leaning casually against her chair after tucking it into the table.</p><p> </p><p>“Well, goodnight.”</p><p> </p><p>Chimp gazed at her with a small smile. “Yeah, night.”</p><p> </p><p>Newsie hesitated for a second, then turned to leave the room</p><p> </p><p>“Oh Newsie!” Chimp called out from behind her. Ch looked at her for a second, then shook her head as if clearing a thought from her mind.</p><p> </p><p>“Hope you sleep well.” Newsie nodded, her curiosity sparked,</p><p> </p><p>“You too, Chimp.”</p><p> </p><p>She nodded, and watched Newsie’s back as she retreated down the dark hallway. She pulled the door closed and looked around the room which felt far too large for one. It wasn’t like she wasn’t used to it, though. Even so, it felt empty, as though there was something missing from the large room.</p><p> </p><p>Chimp shook her head—it wouldn’t do her any good to dwell on things that didn’t matter. It wasn’t completely quiet either, even without the neon thrum of the City enveloping her.</p><p> </p><p>She pulled off her jacket and threw it onto the couch before lying down on the mattress and drawing what she assumed was Newsie’s blanket around her. There was no light from outside, but the sounds of her friends, her family still echoed in her head. It was so good to be home.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Hope you enjoyed, comments are always appreciated!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Standstill</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>She was okay, right?</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Major warning for dissociation/depersonalization/derealization in this one!<br/>Also a brief mention of blood.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>She was fine. She was completely okay.</p><p> </p><p>Not only that, but she had to be, right? She was the one who would make the situation better, she couldn't afford to drift away and lose herself.</p><p> </p><p>It was Kobra, of all people, who finally made her realize. She had been moving through a world in which she didn’t quite exist for days, losing hours to the rapture of staring into space and escaping every aspect of the tangible world.</p><p> </p><p>Kobra stepped out of Cherri's room, spinning his bike keys on his finger. He startled at the sight of her staring down the corridor with glazd eyes. He swiftly regained his composure and nudged her arm ever so gently.</p><p> </p><p>"You alright News?" He knew the answer, had felt that overwhelming focus which enveloped every sense and left you in a world which consisted only of your thoughts as they wrapped around your vison and left you blind to the world. She blinked hard a few times and gave him a weak smile.</p><p> </p><p>"Shiny," she responded without much enthusiasm, and shook her head once to clear the fog snaking through her brain. "Yeah, I'm alright. Just... spacey."</p><p> </p><p>He nodded and opened his mouth as though to speak, but closed it instead and nodded as he walked past her towards the front door.</p><p> </p><p>She walked through the day in a familiar trance. The comfort it provided was concerning, unwanted and yet so easy to slip into. It was as though the day had begun and then simply ended, as she found herself in her room at night, notebook before her. Some futile attempt to write out something, anything she could remember. But there was nothing, just the empty space of her small universe, like the entrance to a City school when you were late, but without the impending terror of being reprimanded for your delayed arrival.</p><p> </p><p>Though Newsie had left the station in physical form, there had been no escape from the moment which had circulated through her head since it had taken place. It had become a black hole around which her entire universe was collapsing, that one moment, stuck in time, frozen in the horror on her face and Cherri's. The finger on the trigger, moments before she squeezed it and called out her brother's name. It lingered, festering like an infected wound.</p><p> </p><p>She couldn’t help but ask ‘what if?’</p><p> </p><p>What if she hadn’t called out, what if she had shot a second earlier… What if she’d shot a second later, if the shot hadn’t just skimmed past him? ‘What if’s wouldn’t turn back the clock.</p><p> </p><p>Besides, it had been over a week now and it served no good purpose for her to dwell. She knew that, but the sheer gravitational force of that singularity, the shot which meant that Cherri would never experience the world in the same way, nor ever look as he had before with the waxen scars now taking over half his head, it pulled every other thought into an aching void.</p><p> </p><p>It wasn't until the dull ache of a cramp shot up in her hand that Newsie looked down at the notebook in front of her, the words on the page scribbled and overlapping. It looked like a scene from a horror movie Ghoul had made them watch on a dark night, all wrapped up in blankets as they looked over at the cassette playing on the TV screen. The short journal entry had become a mess of words—resulting from a brain so full of one thought that it couldn’t contain any others for long enough to form a cohesive sentence.</p><p> </p><p>She dropped the pencil to the ground with a light clatter and leant forwards onto her elbows, folding her arms over the desk. The hard, cold wood pressed into her forehead but she didn't move, even as the numbness of its pressure began to sink into her head. She let her arms carry the brunt of her exhaustion. No amount of sleep would stop this circulation of worry and regret, of wishing to turn back a clock that didn't exist, of regretting the decisions she had made and fighting the urge to sit alone with them until she was forgotten by the world outside.</p><p> </p><p>She had to move on, to get on with her life, had to do something, anything which would distract her from this, break the cycle.</p><p> </p><p>The chair’s gravity pulled at her, clinging to the mental exhaustion like a leech. Her head longed to stay pressed against the desk, but her arms resisted and pushed her up from the faux wood surface. Once she had become well acquainted with every pencil mark on the wall before her, she forced herself up from the chair.</p><p> </p><p>As though her struggle had sent out a signal, a knock sounded on Newsie’s bedroom door. It rattled slightly on its hinges, the noise pulling her focus from the wall.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah?” she croaked. </p><p> </p><p>The door swung open and a figure entered Newsie’s peripheral.</p><p> </p><p>Chimp’s voice cut through the haze swimming around her head.</p><p> </p><p>“Hey, y’alright?”</p><p> </p><p>Newsie nodded, her focus still locked on the door. Had the crack in the wood always been that wide? Or had she just never looked that hard before?</p><p> </p><p>Chimp moved in front of her and leaned on the desk, forcing Newsie to shift her focus. She looked over, the world still only visible as though through the lens of a camera.</p><p> </p><p>“You wanna go for a drive?” Chimp’s voice was soft, slowly drawing Newsie back from the tipping point, where she would gain access to her own thoughts again.</p><p> </p><p>She shook her head. Even the small motion brought her closer to clear thought. A voice which wasn’t her own came from her mouth, speaking the thoughts from which she was being barred by the glass wall constructed in her head.</p><p> </p><p>“Don’t want to be in that van.” An unwanted memory flickered behind her eyes—a dark bloodstain seeping into the grey fabric of the seat. The sharpness of such a vision splintered the fishbowl over her consciousness.</p><p> </p><p>“Let’s go for a walk.” Chimp offered a heavy smile and a dark jacket. The worn leather—a wonderfully familiar sense—was soft beneath her fingers. She shrugged it over her shoulders and shoved her hands into the pockets. Her feet were glued to the ground. There was no incentive to move from the sunlit room, to do anything but stare aimlessly at the sunspots swimming lazily over the scuffed wall.</p><p> </p><p>Chimp reached out and squeezed her arm lightly.</p><p> </p><p>“Come on,” she muttered, and Newsie nodded.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>This one's a little shorter than average (and a month late) but hey, it's finals week.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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